In The Key of G
by SLimac
Summary: Emma Swan gave up her dreams of becoming a pianist when her parents abandoned her to pursue their own musical careers. Hurt by the world and her own hands and terrified of a future apart from music, Emma meets Killian Jones, angry and fiercely protective of his brother. When Killian's home experiences a crisis will Emma be able to get past her scars and reunite the Jones Brothers?
1. Girl with the Flaxen Hair – Debussy

_A/N:_ Hi all! I'm back with a new AU. I wanted to get it up to celebrate the new episodes coming on Sunday (and I also wrote faster than expected). This one is pretty different than anything I've written before but I'm so excited about it and I hope you are too! As a little preface, Emma and Killian in this story are similar to the characters we see when we first meet them in the show. They are hurt by the world and scared to let anyone in. You're going to see a lot of anger and fear and family issues (no Neal or Milah in this but there is Brennan Jones). You have to trust me though that I know where I'm taking them! Also, each chapter title is a piece of music, either classical piano or modern music that I think fits the mood of the chapter. I've put a lot of research into the pieces and into classical piano for this story all ready so I hope you all like it (but please correct me if I get anything wrong)!

I've got seven chapters written as of now so I'll be putting one up a week (sometimes two if the response is really good), probably on Sunday or Monday from now on. If you like what you read please give it a follow and a review! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Here's this piece of music if you want to listen: watch?v=rjxXF7x7Lu0

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators, Adam and Eddie!

The ocean waves pushed up the beach as the wind picked up, white caps racing for distance up the damp sand. Somewhere above a seagull called as it flew inland, a warning of the impending storm. The sky had clouded over hours ago, now an ominous slate grey. September on the coast of Maine was an unpredictable time, this incoming storm a stark contrast to the morning's sun.

Emma pushed her blonde waves back for the tenth time as they whipped around, frustrated that she'd been drug out in such weather. The golden locks buffeted back against her cheeks, stinging her eyes along with the sand the gale was picking up. Hair a lost cause, she crossed her arms and watched as two sisters argued further down the beach. Mary Margaret had insisted that her stepsister Regina and Emma both join her for their yearly tradition, weather be damned. It seemed that Regina, like Emma, had had enough fun. Mary Margaret, on the other hand, with her endless optimism, argued that the rain would hold of for a bit longer. Bribes of a hot drink at Granny's or the use of a new lipstick floated to Emma on the wind as Regina's annoyance mounted.

A few minutes later Regina seemed to win and followed her bouncing sister back to Emma. "You need to smile more," Mary Margaret announced, turning back to stare at the cresting waves. There was a wistfulness in her gaze, eyes darkened with memory. Emma had seen the look enough to know what it meant. It was days like this, the reminders, that Mary Margaret missed her mother the most. But Emma couldn't help but be a bit bitter. At least she knew her mother hadn't left on her own volition.

Emma rolled her eyes. "I am smiling," she replied, humouring her petite friend because this tradition was something Mary Margaret counted on. The tradition, a final beach visit on the last day of summer vacation, had started the year Mary Margaret's mother had died. That was five years previous and two years before Regina had been included after her mother had married Mary Margaret's father.

"No, you're humouring me." Emma snorted at the truthfulness of the words. A lot of what Emma and Regina did was to humour Mary Margaret. They just weren't cut from the same positivity cloth. Where Mary Margaret was as pure as Snow White, Regina was short tempered and Emma was closed off. But they balanced each other out well. It kept Mary Margaret grounded, Regina distracted and Emma from spiraling to complete isolation.

Rain began to splatter down onto the beach. Regina cursed when the first droplets hit her, before grabbing one of her sister's hands and yanking her back towards where Emma had left her little yellow car. Emma sprinted after them, holding up the keys and wishing for automatic locks on the doors. The car was an old yellow Volkswagen Beetle that worked most days and was devoid of anything fancy, including locks that opened on the first try. They were all soaked by the time the doors had all been unlocked.

Emma wrung her hair out onto the plastic mat on the floor, the water splattering against her flip flop clad feet. Regina reached from the backseat and turned on the heater, grumbling about catching their death. It wasn't that cold but Emma wouldn't complain about turning the heat up when her clothes hung off her, heavy from the rainwater. Mary Margaret just pushed her bangs from her face and grinned.

The storm had darkened the evening further now that the rain was falling, turning the sky black despite it only being just past seven. It was too dark to drive without light from her car, something she'd gotten used to over the balmy summer. As soon as Emma flicked on the headlights Mary Margaret smacked the wheel in front of her, causing her to jump.

"What in all that is good?" Emma followed Mary Margaret's finger.

A man was walking across the parking lot, hunched against the rain which had begun to drive down sideways, leather coat collar yanked up around his head. Emma didn't recognize him, which was strange in such a small town. Gossip was practically all the newspaper contained. Everyone knew everyone's business, problematic for people like Emma who wanted to keep their personal lives secret for the sake of those she touched.

"Go see if he needs help," Mary Margaret instructed quickly. "He doesn't look very old." Which in Mary Margaret speak meant 'go get him in the car and maybe I can set him up with you.'

Emma looked to Regina for help. She just wanted to go home and avoid Mary Margaret's futile attempts to find a guy who saw Emma and her walls and scars as a worthwhile challenge instead of just baggage. Regina just shrugged. "You know she'll give you a few days peace if you try."

Emma sighed, cursing under her breath at how right that statement was, and put the car into drive. The man took no notice of the engine's rattle as it started or of the high beams illuminating the parking lot. He was heading towards the beach, walking at a pace that suggested he had no place to be despite the awful weather. The car pulled up next to him and Emma rolled down the window.

"Hey, you need some help?" Emma called out, squinting at him. Water rushed into the open window, landing in her lap. He didn't turn to us so she yelled at him again, wet and impatient. "Oi!"

The man turned then, showing that Mary Margaret had been right about his age. A dark flop of wet hair fell over his forehead, matching stubble just starting to peak through down his jawline. The man was lean, erring to the side of drawn, skin pale save for a scar across one of his cheeks. The man would have been attractive through strictly his bone structure but his eyes were what caught Emma's attention. They were a crystal blue, deep like the ocean and clear like a summer sky, fringed by what looked like smudged black eyeliner.

"Hi," he said slightly dazed, staring back at Emma. A raindrop ran down his nose unnoticed. Emma broke the eye contact first, uncomfortable with the intensity with which she was being watched, and moved to watch her fingers hit against the bottom of the steering wheel.

"Are you alright?" Mary Margaret asked leaning across the consol. Emma looked back up. The man stiffened when he realized there were other people in the car than just Emma.

He nodded but Emma didn't believe him. She'd seen the walls thrown up in a time that could rival Emma's own building skills. The man looked hardened, like he had wiped all emotion from his face. His eyes couldn't be hidden though. There was an anger and an emptiness to the blue eyes, the emotions fighting for dominance in a way Emma felt deep in the pit of her stomach. She knew that combination well.

"You need a drive somewhere?" Emma asked, studying the man.

"No, I'm fine, lass." The accent coming out in his words startled Emma. It sounded English. Behind her Regina drew in a breath at the familiar lilt, confirming Emma's suspicions. It was one she heard often, her own boyfriend Robin being British.

"Are you positive?" Mary Margaret asked. When the man didn't answer, instead turning away from them with a nod she called to him again. "Are you new?"

He turned to us, his eyes blazing like molten led. "Yeah, I'm fine. And yeah, I'm new. Sod off. I'm not your charity case."

"Okay, whatever. See you," Emma rolled up the window and glanced at Mary Margaret. Her pale brows were furrowed as she pouted in confusion.

"Charming," Regina drawled, raising a manicured brow at the man who was stalking away from the car.

"What was that about?" Mary Margaret asked as Emma pulled out of the parking lot leaving the angry man behind them.

"Don't ask me," Emma replied. The windshield wipers squealed even though the glass was wet.

"I don't think I've ever seen someone so angry before," Regina put in, swivelling around to see the stranger. Emma could see him in her rear view. He was sitting on the ground at the edge of the parking lot, head between his knees. For a moment she wanted to turn around and offer comfort. She quickly squashed that down as a moment of confusion. Emma didn't do intimate emotional exchanges. Hell, she wouldn't even allow physical affection from those who she loved and this was a stranger.

Emma shook her head at Regina's statement. She'd seen angry. Regina had been that angry when she first arrived in Storybrooke. Emma didn't think she'd ever seen anyone so broken looking that wasn't staring back at her from a mirror. That anger had come out of an absolute desperation to get away, to be left alone, to not be pitied. It was shocking in its intensity but not unreadable.

The town slid past in a wet blur, streetlights wavering beside the storefronts. No one was on the street or out in cars. Water gushed under the tires as Emma turned off the main street and parked in front of the mayor's house. It was a large Roman style mansion, intimidating like Regina's mother Cora, the mayor. Both sisters unbuckled and got out, waving goodbye and shouting promises to meet the next day.

Emma lived two minutes away above a family diner that belonged to a family friend, Granny and her granddaughter Ruby. It was where Emma had been living since grade two. She pulled into the parking lot and got out, letting herself in the backway and listening at the door for the nightly news. It wasn't late, probably only eight so Granny should still have been up. The apartment was silent though, the only noise the creaking of the door as it opened.

Inside the lights were also off. Emma flicked on the overhead light and scuffed her way across the white and green linoleum floor of the kitchen and checked the counter for a note that would have explained where Granny had disappeared to. Maybe the restaurant had needed her before closing and Emma had missed her by coming through the back? There wasn't one, or even a covered plate of dinner laid out which Granny did whenever Emma missed hers.

Emma moved on to the den, illuminating that as well. The forest green walls seemed to suck the light back in. The door to Granny's room, just off the den, was open. Emma peered in, unsure of what she'd find. Inside Granny was asleep, snoring lightly. Emma pulled back and shut her own eyes for a moment. It was times like this that reminded her of how old Granny was getting, how long Emma actually been living in the apartment. If only Ruby hadn't gone away to college. She would have been able to address Granny getting older but never slowing down. Emma just wanted to panic, terrified at the thought of losing the one person who had kept her.

Emma pulled their door shut with a soft click and sat on the couch. It was old like everything else in the house, made of scratchy fabric in a garish pattern but that didn't matter. If Emma sat right in the middle of it, where the springs had given way, it was like sitting on a hammock. The steadfastness of it, despite its wear and tear, was a comfort.

Emma turned on the television and muted it, watching pictures flash but not really paying any attention until the colours lulled her to sleep.


	2. Wake Me Up - Avicii

_A/N:_ Here's a second chapter because it's the first week and I thought it would be good to learn more about our characters. This is the chapter where you start to learn a bit more about our characters, a little prep for what's to come. Remember, these are very early show versions- angry and hurt. Killian's not trying to be good and Emma's not open (yet- trust me, I've got you my fellow shippers). I hope you like this chapter- it looks like I may potentially have strep so my editing may be a bit off. Thank you all so much for your support, it's already blown me away! You're wonderful. Let me know what you think of this one! Enjoy!

Warning: This chapter and all for here on out will mention self-harm to varying degrees.

The title song : watch?v=IcrbM1l_BoI

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

"Emma Swan, do you plan to get up this morning?"

Emma rolled around on the couch, grumbling. She pushed sleep matted hair from her face, staring up at Granny. Any tiredness the grey haired woman might have felt the night before was gone. "No," Emma grumbled but pushed herself up anyways. She'd promised Mary Margaret that she'd show because it was the first day of their senior year. That didn't mean she'd be happy about it.

Granny nodded, waving a rolling pin in front of her. "There's cinnamon rolls in the oven for when you're ready, dear."

Emma nodded, standing. She gave a stretch, body protesting after being subjected to the couch for the whole night. She'd slept horribly, dreams a mash of nightmares of Granny leaving her and of the people who did abandon her ten years previously. The dreams hadn't surprised Emma, as the first day of school always brought back the memories, something that helped her understand Mary Margaret's own sadness on the day. Usually Emma would skip the first day of school to escape the sights of parents dropping their kids off, wishing them well, and reminding them to stay safe and instead stay in bed to wallow about what was lost. Not this year though. The jury was still out as to whether she'd regret it or not.

As Emma passed the dust covered piano on the way to her room she slammed her hand down on the silver picture frame sitting atop it. The glass smashed as the picture hit the wood. Granny tsked at Emma's actions but Emma just gave a curt nod and continued towards her bedroom. She'd broken that picture multiple times before. If Granny didn't want the glass to smash she shouldn't have kept putting it back in the frame.

Emma entered her bedroom and shut the door, hitting her knuckles off the frame. She didn't even flinch as a dull pain took up residence in the bone. She was too used to it. It only brought a grim satisfaction now.

Emma dressed quickly, pulling on worn jeans and a white t-shirt. It was still too warm to wear her favourite red leather jacket, the residual heat of summer hanging in the air, so she slipped on a light blue cotton scarf and yanked her hair up into a pony tail. Emma didn't feel like bothering with makeup, the whole idea of the first day of school repulsive to her, so she just brushed her teeth and went into the kitchen to find Granny and her placating breakfast.

"How are you feeling?" Granny asked when Emma had sat at the kitchen table and was pulling apart a cinnamon roll.

"Shouldn't you know the answer to that by now?" Emma retorted, the rudeness coming out before she could stop it. Granny had been around since the start of it all, since the yellow taxi had idled out in front of her diner as two promising symphony musicians bundled themselves into it.

"It's polite to ask," Granny replied, hands going to rest on her hips. "I'll ask you the same courtesy."

Emma bowed her head, guilty. "Sorry Granny."

"Well, take some solace in this being your last year. You'll never have to do this again."

Emma sighed. She should have seen this topic coming. "I'm going to need to go somewhere to get better educated for a job." When Granny opened her mouth to answer Emma hurried on. "And I'm not auditioning to be a ballet pianist. You know I don't play anymore."

"And a greater sin has never been known."

With that Granny turned and walked into the den, leaving Emma alone with the knowledge that she was letting down the one person who only wanted what was best for her. But Emma just couldn't do it. That piano in the living room haunted her every day. Sometimes her dreams were backed by classical music- she still had it all memorized- but she could never press the keys. Emma had been abandoned for a career in music. What would happen to those around her if she followed the talent her parents genetics and too-early guidance had pushed on her?

"Emma Swan, stop hitting your hands. I can hear it from in here." Granny's voice pulled her from her thoughts. Emma looked down at her hands, reddened from banging the backs of them against the flat of the table. She hadn't even noticed she'd been doing that. At least one of the knuckles looked like it would be bruised.

Every bruise, every swollen joint, every aching, hangnail covered finger was an excuse not to play the piano. Emma was talented, had been since she came to live with Granny, and once she realized how permanent that visit would become she'd started looking for excuses not to follow her parent's strict practice schedule. That desperation had only grown through the years. The injuries had been an accident at first- the result of being a twelve year old with a reckless streak. But now? Now they were a protective feature.

Emma stood, breakfast forgotten, and shoved her hands into her pockets. "I'll be back after school." Emma grabbed her bag from beside the door, her car keys from their hook and left before Granny could wish her well. The only people Emma would have accepted hearing that from were somewhere in Europe. Or at least they had been the last time Emma had spoken to them, four years previously.

Emma threw her bag into the passenger seat of the car and backed out of the garage. She wasn't looking forward to the day, despite it only being a half day for registration purposes. Emma was enough of a curiosity at school, the students still remembering the girl who had showed up on the first day of school eight years ago, supposedly only staying for a few weeks and already a piano prodigy. But two weeks turned into two months, then two years and then Emma had never left. And with each passing day she grew more sullen and withdrawn. Each day she'd hummed less Tchaikovsky. Each day there had been more bruising, the occasional finger splint, a bit of visual swelling. She'd stopped playing at the church on Sunday mornings, or at any charity event within a two hour radius. To top it all of she'd never gone to a registration day since that first year. And no one could figure out why.

Emma planned to keep it that way.

Pulling into the parking lot Emma was relieved to find most people had already arrived, leaving the space nearly empty of parents. Emma grabbed her bag and slid out of the car, hurrying towards the doors. She could already feel the stares on her from those lingering in the parking lot, trying to hold onto summer for a few moments more.

The halls were busy when she got inside. Emma cursed, shouldering her bag higher onto her back. She had first period chemistry which meant getting through everyone to the basement stairs. Lowering her head she pushed through the crowd. Regina and Mary Margaret would be downstairs waiting for her. Regina's mother expected academic excellence which meant Emma could always count on them being in class. And hopefully saving a seat for her.

The classroom went quiet when Emma rushed into it, anxious to get away from the hallway hoards. She paused inside the door, searching for the sisters who would be a safe haven. Regina was leaning against a desk near the front, arms crossed, while she spoke to Mary Margaret who was already sitting at her own desk, notebook out. When Emma walked in Regina kicked Mary Margaret's desk to alert her. Mary Margaret bolted up and hurried over.

"I'm glad you came," she murmured, before turning and leading her over to Regina.

"Long time no see," Regina drawled. Emma rolled her eyes and dropped her bag on the desk behind Regina's before settling in the plastic chair.

"How's your morning going?" Mary Margaret asked, leaning forward from her own seat. Behind her a few heads of the other students turned, obviously listening in. Regina shot the eavesdroppers glares strong enough to stop their hearts. Emma had to appreciate the protection having Regina as a friend afforded.

"I already fought with Granny about that question."

"Which means leave it alone," Regina added, raising a brow. Emma gave her a nod, grateful. For all her brash exterior she did understand Emma, at least as far as Emma allowed it. Mary Margaret raised her hands in defeat.

"Cora's already talking about applying for university and asking for our top choices. Have you figured anything about what you're doing yet, Em?" Mary Margaret asked, pulling out a couple of pamphlets for college that she'd gotten from the guidance counsellor's office. Emma cringed at the brightly coloured paper.

"Also fought about that. Ask me some other day."

"Sounds like a rough morning," Regina put in with a low whistle.

"No worse than any other year."

The teacher, Mr. Whale, waltzed into the room then, the sound of the bell following him. Whale taught both chemistry and biology. Whale was a young teacher, a friend of Ruby's who had long had a crush on the outspoken woman- that was until Ruby brought home a history and political science major fascinated by war strategies named Mulan for Christmas in her third year. Whale noticed Emma as he settled at his desk and gave her a little nod and gentle smile, more knowledgeable than most about Emma's story because of Ruby. Emma gave a nod back before setting her head on her desk.

The next moment the class fell quiet again. But it was a different hush than when Emma had appeared. This was absolute silence. Emma sat up, looking around in case they were staring at her. But this time it wasn't Emma causing the disturbance. At the door stood the guy she had run into the previous night.

In the light of day, and dry, the man was even more handsome. There was still that broken anger that Emma had noticed the previous night, a hard set of the jaw, a thin lip and cocky posture, but the desperation was gone, or at least very well hidden. Maybe it was because he no longer looked like a wet dog. The man was still wearing that black leather jacket despite the heat, black jeans and a grey Henley. Heavy black boots padded across the floor as he walked to Whale's desk, back straight, eyes never wavering from the front. When he brushed past Emma's desk she noticed something she hadn't in the dark of the previous night. The stranger only had one hand. No prosthetic masked the injury, the stump ending somewhere beneath the leather sleeve of his left arm. Emma couldn't fathom this person. And for some reason she didn't like that. A small piece of her wanted to figure out why he was so angry and hurt. Of course, this was out of the question because that would mean revealing herself too.

"Name?" Whale asked, taking the paper from the man and signing it.

"Killian Jones." Killian's tone was short, clipped, accent harsh. Emma filed that little bit of information away with the strange urges she felt at Killian's arrival.

"Alright Mr. Jones, please take a seat. We're just about to get arranged to go into the lab." Killian nodded, turned on his heel and marched right past Emma again, straight to the only open chair in the very back of the room. Heads turned to watch him pass but Emma kept hers firmly staring forward at the blackboard. Emma found herself fighting with pity at Killian experiencing what she so often did and relief that she was no longer the target of the class's curiosity.

Once Killian had settled, Whale started reading pairs of names for each lab station, following the list alphabetically, explaining that today was just preparation for the first official lab. As expected Regina and Mary Margaret had been placed together, Cora adding Blanchard to Regina's name after the marriage. Despite still going by Regina Mills, her name was officially listed as Regina Mills-Blanchard. Whale kept going to the list, pointing out partners. When he got to the bottom of the list he stopped.

"Emma? You're last alphabetically so I'm going to place you with Killian as he's just been added, alright? Lab station 14."

Emma could feel Killian's eyes staring at the back of her head. She still didn't turn though, already feeling as if the stare could burn her in its anger. Great. Killian already seemed to hate her. This was why she never came to the first day of school- it always meant trouble. Usually when she skipped the first day Mary Margaret and Regina would insist she go with them when she finally arrived. The teachers figured it was because they were friends but Emma knew it was so they could prevent Emma from doing serious damage to her hands in the labs.

Emma nodded to Whale and stood with the rest of the class. She didn't stop to lead Killian to the station, figuring with the way he was staring at her he'd be able to follow her to the back of the attached lab space. Mary Margaret shot her an encouraging smile as she walked by. Regina just narrowed her eyes at Killian, hackles rising in defense.

Killian ambled up to the lab counter just after Emma had reached it. She already had the lab instructions from the cupboard in her hands and was going over what she would need to set out. Killian just leaned against the counter, all cocky aloofness now that he was away from the majority of the students. Emma set the sheet down and went to work, not paying attention to Killian. If he didn't want to help, Emma wasn't going to force him.

Sometime between the second and third load of supplies from the lab closet Killian had started to read the handout. Emma just rolled her eyes and kept going. Of course he'd start to get involved when she was nearly done. On her final trip back from the supply closet Emma noticed that Mary Margaret and Regina had already finished and were now standing at Emma's station, sizing up Killian. Emma picked up the pace, hurrying back in case she needed to do damage control. She needed to get through a whole semester with Killian after all.

"So," Mary Margaret started as Emma neared, "have you introduced yourself to Emma yet?" _Shit._ That was Mary Margaret's matchmaking voice. Nope. Not happening. Why was Mary Margaret always insisting on finding Emma her fairy-tale ending?

"Why would I want to introduce myself to the girl who hates everyone?"

"Excuse me?" Emma cut in, dropping all her supplies on the counter. "You have no idea who I am."

"You're an open book love. Think you have the monopoly on shit feelings? Think you're something special because of that? That you deserve special treatment because of it? I saw how you wouldn't look with the rest of the students- as if you're all high and mighty. You're probably just upset because your parents wouldn't buy you a new outfit for today. Am I on track yet?" Killian's eyebrow climbed up his forehead as his jaw worked.

Emma's fingers fisted at her side and she slammed them down on the counter causing the various glass flasks she'd gathered to rattle and Mary Margaret to jump. Emma was seeing red. How _dare_ this stranger accuse her of being so shallow? How _dare_ this guy assume she had nothing bad going on? "My shit? Trust me, I'd be over the fucking moon if it was over clothing." Once the words started falling from her lips in anger she couldn't stop it. "Turns out I'm not as important as a piano to my parents. But I guess I was never as special as a sheet of Tchaikovsky. Or whatever the hell they're playing now." Thankfully her walls slammed themselves up before she could spill out anymore of her story. Panic beginning to outweigh the anger, Emma turned and stormed out of the class. She didn't stop to grab her bag or when Whale called after her, asking if he needed to call Ruby. Emma didn't stop until she'd made it to her car.

Emma started up the vehicle and drove up the street, hands shaking. _Just a few more feet_ she kept promising herself. Once she was away from sight of any of the classroom windows she pulled into the back parking lot of Storybrooke Library and pounded her hands against the steering wheel, cursing loudly. A honk after she mistakenly hit the horn startled her back from the wheel. Emma put her head down and cried.


	3. Gymnopédie No2 - Erik Satie

_A/N:_ Did you all see the new episode tonight? I saw it, LOVED the end twenty minutes, and couldn't resist putting this chapter up today instead of tomorrow. This is the last chapter before the ball really gets rolling and we start learning about Killian and his past (including a little boy who may or may not be who you're expecting). I'm blown away by all the follows and favourites on this story already. And the reviews have been so lovely! Thank you all so very much. Maybe there will be another chapter up Wednesday or Thursday. Let me know what you think of this one! Enjoy

The song for the chapter: watch?v=IM54ja7p86U

Warning: This chapter mentions self harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

About twenty minutes into her hiding Emma received a text from Mary Margaret. Emma reached over and grabbed her phone, sliding her finger across the screen to reveal the text. _You okay? Killian's in English now with us but Regina got a hold of his schedule. He won't be in calc._ Of course Regina would be able to do that. She was practically magic when she was determined.

Emma glanced at the clock. Five minutes before the shortened period would be over and Emma could return to calculus if she wanted to. _If._ Did she want to? By now everyone in the school would have heard about her outburst. Everyone would know the new kid got to her, made her reveal a bit about her past. In Storybrooke there were nuclear families with a stay at home mother and working father and 2.5 kids who all went to church on Sunday. In Storybrooke parents didn't abandon their children to much older family friends to work a two week contract with European symphonies. And they certainly didn't decide to stay in Europe forever without telling said children or children's guardians.

Part of Emma wanted to go home and warn Granny of the shit storm that would probably greet her when she arrived at church on Sunday. But the stubborn part of Emma didn't want to give everyone the satisfaction of seeing her spiral. Shit hurricane or shit tornado. Wasn't much of a choice. No, Emma would not let them see what was under her walls. She'd pretend she was windproof. They'd already gotten enough material to fuel their fire for the foreseeable future. They didn't need any more.

Emma slid the car back into drive and returned to the school parking lot. Only an hour longer and she'd be free for the day to go run and hide.

There were two ways to get to the top floor of the school where the calculus classroom was. One way was popular because it was short and convenient. The other was longer and rarely used. Emma turned her feet from the path she normally took and went up the back set of stairs.

She was nearly up the hallway when footsteps sounded. Emma slowed, walking cautiously, bracing herself. And with good reason because around the corner came Killian Jones, watching her carefully. Emma stopped, hands clenching at her sides. Killian walked a few more steps before stopping. Obviously he hadn't stuck around English class. They stood there, staring at each other.

Emma weighed her options. She could make a break for it but she wasn't sure if Killian would capitalize on that fear or not. She could stand her ground and risk spilling more secrets. Emma still couldn't figure out how five minutes into talking to Killian Jones he'd managed to get what no one in town could get in eight years. Emma didn't like it one bit.

"Swan," Killian drawled and it felt like he was measuring her up.

"Jones," Emma returned, forcing her head high.

Another long moment of silence before Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear, almost bashful. "Ah, lass, I didn't mean for what happened earlier to have happened."

"Then why did you do it?" Emma bit, calling up all her anger to cover how confused she was in the change she just witnessed in Killian's demeanor.

"I didn't think that would be your answer."

Emma saw red. There was no need to force the anger up now. She stomped forward, bringing her hand up and catching Killian's cheek with her open palm. "You what?" Killian looked shocked, a quick flash of fear going through his eyes. His cheek was reddening, a clear imprint of fingers across the pale skin.

"I thought I was right."

Emma pulled back again before bringing her hand forward. Killian caught her just before she could crack him across his cheek again. "I need none of that from you." Killian squeezed her hand, the joints of her fingers grating together. Her knees buckled a bit from the pain but she fought to stay upright. She would not show weakness in front of Killian Jones.

A moment later Killian shook his head as if he were coming out of a storm and dropped her hand, jumping back. Despite herself Emma grabbed her throbbing hand, rubbing her fingers over the sore joints. Part of her was thankful for the pain- it would continue giving her an excuse not to play the piano. Even Granny would not be able to call her out for it when she saw the bruises that would soon be blossoming across the skin. But the other part of her was confused. Killian's words echoed through her mind. _I need none of that from you._ Was Killian being abused? Was that why he behaved as he did?

"Sorry, lass," Killian murmured before pushing past her and hurrying down the hall. Emma stood there in shock until the bell rang, signalling her need to get to calculus.

Students began to file out into the hallways, their voice reaching Emma from where she stood alone in her out of the way path. She was going to have to go past everyone now to get to the class which was up another half set of stairs. Emma gave one last look to the direction Killian went before putting her head down and rushing through the hall, using her shoulder to get by the students who were stopped, staring at her.

Of course everyone would know by now. News got around fast in the school and now that the gossips had a piece to the mystery Emma had shrouded herself in it would go at light speed. She'd mentioned her musician parents, something occasionally people would wonder about when they saw Emma out with Granny. Emma had also let spill the word piano. That word was like a nuclear launch code for the town because everyone wanted to know why Emma, the piano prodigy who'd already been invited at the age of ten to play with the New York Symphony at a charity gala had completely given up anything to do with music. A girl who'd been outspoken and confident in her abilities when she'd arrived at Storybrooke, in just a few years she'd become quiet and angry, locked away with an aversion to personal contact and letting people in. When it first started happening they'd been investigated by Child Protection, someone reporting that Granny was abusing her. The case was cleared when the investigators saw that wasn't actually happening and any bruising on her hands was Emma's own self harm, the story of Emma's parents and their neglect enough to close the file on Granny. Even though Child Protection had cleared them people still wondered what had caused the change in Emma. And now they had a clue.

Emma didn't look up until she'd made it to the calculus classroom, pushing her way to the empty desk behind Mary Margaret. Regina immediately crossed over from where she was sitting while Mary Margaret turned in her chair. She was glad Mary Margaret had picked a spot beside the wall of windows so Emma could have something to push herself against, a side that no one could look at her from. Now with her two friends surrounding her and her back to everyone else she was effectively protected on all sides.

"You okay?" Mary Margaret whispered, glancing around at the people staring at them. Regina positioned herself beside Emma and glared at everyone until they turned away. That was one of the best parts about having Regina around in times like this. No one crossed the evil queen of the school.

Emma shrugged. "The wolves will have a field day."

"Speaking of wolves, did you call Ruby?" Regina asked, acknowledging the air Ruby had around her when it came to her relationships. "She may be able to help?" Regina looked down, noticing the hands Emma was hiding in her lap. "Or kill him." She put her hand out, waving for Emma to reveal her fingers but knowing not to touch. "Come on, let Mary Margaret see."

Emma sighed, knowing Regina would pick up and move the table if Emma didn't move her hands. To avoid any more scenes today she lifted her hands and laid them across the desk. Mary Margaret gasped when she saw the red tightness of her knuckles, her pinkie swollen.

"Did you do this to yourself because of what happened?" Mary Margaret asked, her fingers dancing in the air over Emma's, the ghost touch as Regina called it.

"In a way?" Emma answered quietly, watching as the teacher entered. The teacher, Mr. Hopper's eyes immediately went to Emma and she looked away. Well at least she knew the teachers were in on the mystery now too.

"What do you mean?"

"Killian did it because I slapped him."

Regina whistled low then cursed, seemingly not sure how to feel. "Don't worry Emma, no need to call Ruby. I'll kill him myself. I bet I could rip his heart out if I tried."

"I slapped him," Emma replied, trying to mollify Regina who was looking like she was out for blood.

"I owe you an ice cream for that then. After the murder of Killian Jones."

"Regina, sit down, okay?" Emma asked, noticing the heads turning towards her again now that Regina's glare was gone. "I brought this on and I just want it to die down. Killian doesn't deserve any more grief." Emma wasn't sure why she added the last bit but there was just something about Killian that was drawing her in, something telling her that there was more to the story. Of course she'd never act on it because that would mean having to reveal her own story of never being good enough, but the desire to know him was still there, under the fear.

After a tense moment Regina sat and pulled out her book. Mary Margaret also turned around after giving Emma a soft smile and a worried look at her hand. The teacher began talking. Emma breathed out a sigh of relief, feeling the eyes once again turn away from her. Emma tried to listen to Mr. Hopper and ignore the pain building in her hand.

A movement out the window caught Emma's attention halfway through the class. She turned, glancing down at the school lawn, watching a dark figure cross it. The heavy leather jacket and dark hair gave it away. Killian Jones was leaving, marching away as if he were desperate to be somewhere else. _Anywhere else._ Emma watched him move, a smooth gait but a defeated slump to his shoulders. His hand rubbed at his shoulder, as if it were paining him.

As if he knew he was being watched Killian turned back to the school, eyes scanning the façade until he saw Emma in the window. When their eyes locked his shoulders straightened, back to that angry cockiness and away from whatever true emotion he'd been showing when he thought he was alone. He just kept staring, as if waiting for Emma to do something. Report him maybe? Join him? She didn't know so she just kept watching, trying to figure out what was behind Killian Jones. If the mask she thought he was wearing was actually real or if it was something she could pull off and look underneath.

The bell rang, startling her front the staring competition she'd been in, the noise drawing her attention to her classmates that began to get up, the day over. When Emma looked back Killian was walking away again, up the road, travelling in the direction of the elementary school, and back to moving quickly and once again hunched in on himself. As Emma sat there she fought with the desire to go after him, find out what was going on. But that was a bad idea. Getting close to anyone, especially someone who hated her as Killian Jones seemed too was a bad idea. He'd only leave her in the end.

So instead of going after the mystery that was Killian Jones Emma left with Mary Margaret and Regina, two of the few stable features she'd had in her life in nearly a decade.


	4. Sleeping Beauty Waltz- Tchaikovsky

_A/N:_ Here's the next chapter! I didn't get a review on the last chapter despite several hundred views so I hope you all haven't given up on me yet! This chapter, in my opinon, is where this story really starts going for our favourite characters. Let me know what you think of our new character (and never fear, there's a third brother in the works for much later as well). Thank you so much for the support and I hope you like this chapter better than the last! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Song for this chapter: Sleeping Beauty Waltz- Tchaikovsky watch?v=y7vZE3PoWHU (titled Once Upon A Dream)

Warning: This chapter mentions self harm.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

"So you've had an eventful day," Granny called out as soon as Emma got through the door of the empty diner. Working after the day she'd already had was the last thing she wanted but Granny needed the help today as most of her other workers had left for college and they were about to open for the lunch rush.

Emma rolled her eyes. "How long did it take the gossip mafia to get to you?" Emma moved around the corner, throwing her bag in a cubby underneath and moved to wash her hands, turning the temperature of the water up to scalding and hissing at the burn. Granny came behind her and turned on the cold with a little tut before continuing the conversation.

"Fifteen minutes, give or take. They all wanted to know where your parents are."

"And what did you tell them?" Emma didn't think even Granny knew where they were now. Unless she Googled their names. That tempted Emma occasionally but she was never brave enough to follow through when she got the search engine open. What if they were back in America like at the Boston Pops or now playing with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra? The risk of finding out they were so close but never came back to regain custody of her was just too great for Emma.

"To mind their own damn business."

"I'm sure that went over well," Emma replied drolly as she shut off the water. Granny just shrugged and started muttering under her breath _._ Emma just had to hope that conversation wouldn't make things worse. The last thing they needed was a bunch of old ladies on the warpath for Granny's insubordination.

"I really don't care. They can't talk about you like that Emma. They don't know what you've been through."

"Or you," Emma replied with bravado. "You had to put up with me."

Granny laid a hand on Emma's shoulder and Emma tried not to wince. "Trust me, you were much easier than Ruby." With a cackle Granny moved away to flip the open sign, leaving Emma at the counter to wait for people to come in.

Like clockwork Leroy, or Grumpy as Granny affectionately called him, showed up five minutes after the sign flipped. Grumpy, the biggest gossip in the whole town. Granny knew that well because she whizzed past Emma before she could grab a menu, bringing Grumpy's coffee. Once again Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She tried not to listen to their conversation, but when she finally gave in she was pleased to hear Granny swiftly and effectively shutting down any topics that weren't the weather or the shape of Main Street's potholes. Granny gave her a pleased smile when she left Grumpy and moved into the kitchen to get his lasagna.

The diner was quiet for another ten or so minutes. Emma took the time to open the laptop Granny always brought to the diner for her when she worked after school and poke around some university sites. She had a year to decide where she was going next. Emma had never considered a path other than the one she had sworn off of. Emma had never dreamed of anything else as a child. She'd never wanted to be a doctor or a princess or even a ballerina. She'd always wanted to be a principal pianist for the New York City Ballet.

After scrolling through several local colleges and universities with nothing striking her interest she somehow found herself onto the website of the Boston Ballet. Pain shot through her as she watched the trailer for Swan Lake which was currently playing there. She'd always had a deep love for Tchaikovsky, knowing the keys of the trailer song off by heart. Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty Waltz had been the last piece she'd ever played on the piano, feeling fitting since she was putting her talent to bed. It had been a dream of her younger self to be the principal pianist for this very ballet. If she felt this hurt by looking at the Boston Ballet there was no way she'd be able to look at the New York City Ballet site. Emma clicked open the musician page, scanning the names of the principal pianists. She recognized the name of one, someone her parents had told her about when they were still parents.

Emma closed the laptop with a sharp click, pushing away from the counter. As she did the little bell rang above the door, signalling a new customer. Emma glanced over and watched a young boy enter the diner, looking behind him as if he were waiting for someone to come after him. The boy was maybe seven with dark scruffy hair that was far too long and hadn't seen a comb in at least several days. The stature of the boy was slim, bordering on too skinny and his skin was pale. When he came over to the counter, scrambling up with some difficulty onto one of the stools Emma noticed his eyes. They were a startling blue that was at once something that drew her in and scared her at the same time. Emma shook her head at the strange feeling. This was just a boy. She had no idea who he was.

Emma moved behind the counter, walking until she was right across from the boy. She leaned down, crossing her arms on the clean counter. "Hello," Emma greeted. "What brings you in today?" The boy looked far too young to be walking around alone, especially since Emma had no idea who he was which meant he hadn't been around for a while.

"I'm hungry," the boy answered quietly, looking down at his hands. There was a slight accent to his voice but it was so Americanized that Emma couldn't place it. Wherever he was originally from he'd lived in the States for longer. Maybe he was born here but had been taught to speak by someone with an accent.

"Well you've come to the right place," Emma answered, a vague idea where this conversation was going.

The boy shrugged. "Not really."

"And why's that?"

"I've got no money. I know I'm supposed to pay at restaurants but I'm hungry." The boy sighed as if coming into the diner was a terrible decision and moved to get off the stool.

Emma put her hand out to him, letting her fingers fall to the counter at the last minute. The boy stopped. "I'll make you a deal, okay?" The boy looked up at her, expression warring between caution and curiosity. "If you tell me your name I'll get you something to eat. On the house. Okay?" The boy's jaw dropped in awe and it broke Emma's heart that the child was so surprised a stranger would offer him kindness.

"Liam," the boy replied, nearly tripping over his name in his haste to get it out.

"Okay Liam," Emma replied. "You stay here and I'll be right back. Anything in particular I can get you?"

Liam shook his head. "I'm not picky." Emma snorted and turned away, moving into the kitchen. Liam was the first kid she'd ever met that would eat anything.

"That was awfully nice of you," Granny called when she came around the corner.

Emma shrugged. "You would have done the same. The boy's obviously hungry with no other way to get food."

"Still. You're a good person, Emma."

"Tell that to the town," Emma muttered, anger flaring, before moving to the stove and getting a second slice of lasagna from the pan Granny had just finished warming up.

Liam looked like he'd need all the sustenance he could and right now, since the food off the larger dinner menu wasn't ready yet, lasagna would have to do. She set the plate of pasta on a tray Granny had already put Grumpy's lasagna on then moved to fill a glass with chocolate milk since she was pretty sure that was the lifeblood of all kids. Finally, onto the tray went a slice of cherry pie, topped with a squeeze of whip cream since the ice cream would melt too fast and Emma didn't want to wait to give the boy pie in case he felt awkward about the kindness and tried to leave right after the lasagna.

Emma grabbed the tray, moving to hike it up above her shoulder and cursed, pain lacing through her hand. Even though it was usually damaged in some way, it was rarely this sore. This was the kind of pain Emma would have begged for when she started the habit but now that Granny no longer actively tried to force her to get back into piano and she didn't have as bad injuries she wasn't used to the pain. Emma quickly switched hands and used her sore one to grab some silverware instead.

Liam was still sitting at the counter when Emma returned. Quickly and without making eye contact Emma dropped off Grumpy's lasagna then returned to the counter. She gave Liam his silverware then set down the lasagna, pie and milk before storing the tray under the counter.

Liam looked over the food, jaw once again agape, hands hesitating to reach for the food. Once again Emma's heart broke. Who was this poor boy's family that had made him so scared of kindness? _The same type of people as yours_ a voice whispered to Emma. She shook the thought away, awkwardly gesturing to the food.

"Eat before it gets cold."

"Thank you," he replied, finally reaching for the fork. Though it took Liam a long while to convince himself that the food in front of him was not a trick and start eating, he barely slowed once he started. Emma stayed behind the counter, watching him. It wasn't like there was anyone else around to attend to because she was studiously ignoring Grumpy.

"So, Liam, what were you up to today that you ended up here alone?" Emma asked after a while, trying to get Liam to slow down because he was eating at a speed that would choke the average person.

"My brother was supposed to pick me up from school since it's a half day but we got out earlier than he did. All the other kids were going with their parents to a first day picnic but I had no one to go with." Liam shrugged as if it weren't a big deal. Emma remembered those picnics. She'd hated them. Granny had taken her to the first but afterwards it just hurt too much. Everyone knew Granny wasn't her mother or even related by blood.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Emma whispered, leaning closer. Liam took a swallow of milk, watching her and waiting. Emma took a deep breath, a bit surprised in herself that she was about to tell this stranger of a boy about her. But there was just something about his innocence and a comradery Emma inexplicably felt. "I didn't have any parents to take me so I never went either."

"Really?" Emma nodded. "Where are they?" When Liam noticed her pause in answering he blushed and looked down. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that, especially since you were so nice to me. I'll leave now."

"It's okay," Emma answered quickly, not wanting the boy to leave yet. He hadn't even finished his lasagna. Behind Liam Grumpy, stood and threw some money on the counter. Emma waited until he left to continue on. "They're in Europe. I think."

"You think?" Liam asked, confused but timid before taking another bite of lasagna.

"They gave up my guardianship to Granny who owns this place. Didn't want me, I guess." Emma shrugged, trying to allow the movement to cover the crack in her voice. The first day of school was always hard but today- it was worse than ever.

"Why wouldn't they want you? You're so pretty and nice."

Now it was Emma's turn to blush. "And you're very charming."

Liam gave a proud grin. "My brother says you must always be a gentleman."

"Where's your brother now?"

The bell above the door chimed and Liam whipped his head around. "Right there."

Standing in the door was Liam's brother. _Killian Jones._


	5. Best Fake Smile - James Bay

_A/N:_ The response from the last chapter was amazing! It's that response that reassures me that what I'm writing is wanted. This story is different than what I've done before so I always get a bit nervous when posting (Mondays and Thursdays is the schedule now). I'll say that from each chapter after this there's steps forward for our couple and their lives. I just wrote chapter 14 and there's a huge step forward in that for Emma's mental health and chapter 8 is big for Killian. This is a slow build because these characters have a lot of healing to do and I want to keep it authentic but I hope you'll stick around because it's going to be worth it for them in the end! Thanks so much for all your support, it means so much to me because I've been really drained lately from my thesis. Let me know what you think of this! Enjoy!

Song: Best Fake Smile- James Bay - watch?v=UZme7SwXXws

Warning: This chapter includes mentions of self harm and abuse

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Killian Jones hurried over to where his brother sat, eyes taking in the empty plate and still full piece of pie in front of him. Liam looked chagrined, knowing he was caught and about to get an earful.

"Liam, what are you doing? You were supposed to wait at the school," he hissed, bending down to his brother. Killian had been so focused on Liam that he hadn't yet noticed Emma. "You know you're not supposed to go places without letting me know."

"There was a parent picnic." Liam glanced away from Killian towards Emma, as if looking for reassurance that what he did wasn't bad. Emma gave him a soft smile and a nod, feeling awkward about listening in but not wanting to leave Liam alone.

"I said I'd take you."

"You're not Papa," Liam replied, voice a little hysterical now from the reprimand.

"And you can be glad of it," Killian snapped back before drawing in a calming breath. "Why are you eating here when you know you're not supposed to?"

"I was hungry and-"

"So am I but you know I'm working on that," Killian replied, interrupting Liam's explanation.

"But-"

"Come on, Liam. We're going home.'" Killian reached into his back pocket, for what Emma assumed was his wallet. She tapped the counter to get Killian's attention. Liam was hungry and this wasn't his fault. If Killian wanted to be mad he could pick a fight with Emma and leave Liam to eat.

"Look, its okay. I gave it to him."

Killian stiffened immediately, recognizing her voice before he saw her, face reddening. "Emma." The name came out in a breath that shot something Emma couldn't recognize through her. She pushed it away to keep her thoughts clear. This was about Liam, not her own issues.

"It's on the house. Liam didn't even ask for the food. Liam was a proper little gentleman." Liam glowed at her words and it made Emma feel warm inside.

"I can't let you do that." Once again Killian reached for his wallet, as if Emma hadn't overheard everything he'd just said. She wouldn't take Killian's money when it was obviously needed for food. But how was she supposed to do that without offending him?

"Here dear," Granny said, sweeping in behind them. Emma should have known Granny with her ears like a wolf would have also heard the full exchange. She sat another slice of pie a fork down on the counter in front of Killian. "Have this while your brother finishes up." When Killian opened his mouth Granny swiftly cut him off. "It's rude to argue with an old lady."

Emma snorted when Killian sat down immediately. Was this him trying to be a gentleman like Liam had said? It wasn't as if Emma had ever seen Killian behave the slightest bit gentlemanly so she didn't have much to go off. To her he'd been nothing but rude. But maybe he hadn't always? If Liam was this way because of what Killian had taught him, maybe Killian wasn't all bad?

Granny gave a satisfied nod before returning to the kitchen. With Granny gone Emma shifted on her feet, awkwardly for a few moments before turning away, planning on hiding in the back office until Killian left. She was halfway up the hall when footsteps hurried up behind her. Emma whirled, hand coming up to keep Killian back. She was ready to fight with him over Liam but she didn't feel like arguing over what had happened between them earlier. That wound, or rather bruises, was still too fresh.

"You're supposed to be eating your pie," Emma bit, just wanting to make it behind the lockable door of the office. Killian wasn't listening to her though, instead staring at her hand. Emma looked towards her hand, realizing she'd held up the one he'd injured which had grown worse as time passed, dark bruises covering the last two knuckles. Emma pulled her hand back, shoving it into her apron.

"Did I do that?" Killian asked, voice a hushed whisper. Emma shrugged in answer. "Emma," Killian said, the name from his lips once again stirring a feeling deep inside her chest. "Was that from where I grabbed you?"

"I slapped you first," Emma replied, shrugging again. "And I should be thanking you, you did more damage in five minutes than I could do in a week." Taking advantage of having stunned Killian with her words she turned on her heel and hurried into the office, shutting and locking the door.

A few moments later there was a knock on the door. "Swan?"

"Go eat your pie, Jones," she replied, matching his use of her last name. "Make sure your brother doesn't choke," she added as an afterthought, worried about the charming little boy who'd so quickly captured her attention.

Killian sighed, defeated. "Alright, lass." Emma waited until she heard his footsteps return to the restaurant area before moving to the file cabinet and pulling out the inventory list. She settled at the desk to start the order they would need for next week. Not that she expected to get much work done.

The mystery that was Killian Jones just grew. In school and in public he was rude and angry and aggressive. He pushed and accused and withdrew. With his brother he was firm and worried. From what she'd heard he was trying to provide for his brother. But from what he'd let slip at school it sounded as if someone was abusing him. Was there a parent that had neglected their duty, leaving Killian with all the responsibilities yet hurting him? Liam made it seem as if Killian were a good person, teaching him important skills. And Liam certainly seemed like a great kid. He obviously had his own issues, a lot of fear and timidity and hunger. But he was also charming and innocent. Was Killian the way he was because he was protecting Liam at the expense of himself? Had he once been like little Liam? Was that man still inside him now, buried under layers of scars?

Emma shook her head. Why was she doing this? She hated when people mused about her and the secrets she hid. There was just something about Killian that made her break her rule not to speculate about others, though. She recognized the walls and the emptiness, the bitterness and determination to seem strong. It was exactly what she did herself.

There were footsteps in the hallway. Emma didn't look up, figuring it was just Granny going to the bathroom. The steps stopped at the office door though and a napkin was pushed through the space between the floor and door. Emma got up, moving to it as the footsteps returned to the main part of the restaurant. She bent and picked up the napkin. It was a letter, written in a beautiful cursive.

 _Swan,_

 _I must apologize for my wretched behaviour. There is nothing much I can say to excuse myself for it. I won't give you any reasons for my attitude because a) I do not know you and b) it is safer you keep away from that mess. I assume you understand that- it seems as if you have your own past you'd rather keep from prying eyes._

 _I must say I feel like a brute which is the one thing I promised I'd never become. I hurt you. And quite badly it seems. Not just physically. I forced you to show your hand to the other students. That guilt of the gossip was what drove me from school early. I know you saw me. I truly didn't know and I guess I still don't really know. Or maybe I did have a guess and didn't know how to take finding a kindred spirit so I tried to push you away. I'm not sure what in you brings this out in me but it doesn't matter. It was out of line. I didn't know how badly I'd hurt you. Again, I won't explain my reaction but I am betting you're starting to understand a bit from meeting Liam._

 _Speaking of Liam he's furious that I've driven the nice blonde lass away. You've got an admirer in him, Swan, which is surprising because the one rule Liam has learned (apart from being a gentleman) is to never let a stranger in. Walking into this diner and seeing Liam with all the food, it made me nervous. Finding out that you'd given all that food to him for free for just his name- well it makes me sick to my stomach for all I've done to you in the short time I've known you yet you've shown my brother nothing but kindness._

 _And now your granny, as Liam tells me, is sending us away with two full plates of dinner. For free. I don't know how to apologize properly so I'm just going to have to thank you. If you ever chose to speak to me I'll try my best not to be so churlish. I make no promises though because that's really out of my control so maybe its best you stay away from me._

 _Killian Jones._

 _P.S. Liam says thank you. He says he'll see you soon but I've told him not to bother you anymore._

 _P.P.S. I'm not quite sure what to make of your comment about your hands. All I'll say is this- whatever your reasons go easy. Your hands are rather lovely and don't deserve to be destroyed._

Emma read the letter a second time before shoving it into her back pocket. She didn't know how to make sense of it. The letter was well written, the script neat and elegant. In parts of the letter he actually seemed charming. Was Emma getting a glimpse of the side of Killian Jones that Liam tried to emulate? And why try so blatantly to push her away? Emma wasn't forcing herself at him. Why was he so scared of getting near her that he was making his brother keep away as well? Emma didn't want Liam to stay away if he was hungry and needed a meal after not having one in who knows how long. And the comment about her hands. Did he actually care or was it like what everyone else who noticed her self-harm said? A response out of obligation and a lack of knowledge on what else to say?

But there was no time to figure any of that out now. Emma had to work. Emma left the office and entered the restaurant just in time to watch Killian and Liam, now wearing Killian's coat, retreating up the street.

"Strange boys," Granny mused when Emma came behind the counter.

"I know. They won't be coming back though."

Granny shot her a look of confused suspicion. "Too bad. I see a lot of you in the littlest one from that first years I had you. And the older boy, Killian- well, I think I see a lot of you now in him. It might do you well to spend some time with him."

Emma just shook her head at Granny's ridiculous statement. Getting to know Killian Jones would bring nothing but heartache and future abandonment. It wasn't as if he wanted her around anyways. Killian had made that fact quite clear.

Emma had learned long ago that if she couldn't even force her parent to want to spend time with her, there was no point in even dreaming of anyone else actually wanting to spend time with her. Mostly she figured, in her deepest, darkest parts, that everyone who did, like Granny and Mary Margaret and Regina were just doing it out of pity. She couldn't ask though because she was scared of what everyone she cared about would do if they knew Emma was on to them. Emma was terrified they'd give up the ruse and leave her totally alone.

No, if Killian didn't want any part of Emma, she most definitely wouldn't force herself on him.


	6. Canon in C- Pachelbel

_A/N:_ Sorry for getting this up so late. I've been having a rough few days because friends of mine have been getting offered free rides to Master's and I've been offered nothing for the program I was accepted into (you're supposed to be good enough that they throw money at you to get you to agree) and I worked myself up to such a state that I blacked out and the next thing I know I was laying on my kitchen floor. I'm still feeling pretty sick so forgive any editing mistakes. I'm so appreciative of all the support this story has been getting so thank you so much! Next chapter we meet Ruby and get a bigger glimpse into why Emma is this way. Let me know what you think of this chapter! Enjoy!

Song: Cannon in C- Pachelbel - watch?v=trNolL4i6hw

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of abuse and self harm.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

When Emma walked into her chemistry class a few days later Killian was already there, seated at his desk in the back. Emma noticed with a pang that he looked exhausted, drawn and angry. She pushed the feeling away. Killian had made it quite clear that he wanted nothing to do with Emma. Today was to be their first official lab session which meant she'd probably have to interact with him but maybe he'd keep to his word and let her be to do it all herself.

She moved towards where Mary Margaret was seated with Regina without sparing another glance at Killian. It was 8:30 in the morning and Regina was already buried in work.

"University applications," Regina grunted as a greeting. Emma glanced over her friend's shoulder and whistled lowly at the Princeton application. Of course Regina would go Ivy League. She'd make it too. The certainty she felt about Regina's future success shot jealousy through her. Emma hadn't told anyone that she'd looked up the ballet. Even she was trying to forget she'd done that.

"Never mind that!" Mary Margaret cut in, bouncing out of her seat, fingers dancing in front of Emma. Emma stopped just out of her reach, waiting to see what brought on a full on ghost touch hug. "David asked me to be his girlfriend."

"Yeah, they're going steady to the sock hop," Regina drawled, as if she'd already heard this statement a million times that morning. Emma smirked at the comment. Mary Margaret and David had gone on several dates already and were like an old time perfect couple, a real Snow White and Prince Charming. David was a year older than Mary Margaret, in police training now, but coming back on the weekends to work at a local shelter. He was handsome and one of those all-around American boys that even Cora couldn't find fault in. At least that relationship was one thing that didn't make Emma jealous. It wasn't even an option for her. She couldn't let anyone into her fucked up self. She couldn't even stand physical contact.

 _Maybe she was like Killian Jones._

"Well, congratulations," Emma intoned before moving into the chemistry lab. Whale had just arrived to supervise them so she really didn't feel the need to keep standing around and talking about her friends' together lives. It wasn't that she wasn't happy for them. Emma was thrilled they were finding their own way. They deserved the best. Emma was just a bit jealous because she didn't.

Emma stopped in front of her lab station, waiting to be given the okay to start. While she waited she tapped her now healing knuckles against the lip of the counter. She was a few hits in when she realized she was tapping out the rhythm of Pachelbel's Cannon in C, one of the most famous wedding songs in history. Maybe her subconscious was jealous of Mary Margaret and David. Emma shoved her fingers into her pocket with a curse, hoping no one had heard her classical music slip.

"Don't stop, lass. That sounded like real music," a lilting voice purred in her ear. Emma jumped in surprise but she was even more startled when she didn't immediately move away.

"I thought you said you didn't want me to damage my hands," Emma quipped, letting slip the letter reference in her frazzled state. What was it about her mood lately that had her messing up her rules? Emma was beyond frustrated that she was losing her carefully honed control.

"Maybe use a piano then?" Killian raised a brow in challenge.

Emma froze for a moment before barking, "Maybe you should shove your opinions and stay away from me?" Emma slipped around Killian to grab the lab supplies. She fired up the Bunsen burner, staring at the flame for a moment, watching as the yellow burnt away to a blue flicker. Her fingers twitched at her side. A burn would stop her from unconsciously going over classical music.

Killian reached over and grasped the Bunsen burner, pulling it close to himself. Emma looked up in surprise. Killian just shrugged and turned away, like it was nothing, leaving Emma stunned. Had Killian just been able to read her and figure out what she was about to do? Had he cared enough to stop her from dipping a finger or two into the flame? Or was he just trying to bug her by moving stuff around the lab? Emma figured it was the latter.

Emma wanted to curse in frustration. This man was making no sense and it was throwing her off her carefully controlled path. Emma Swan didn't let people in. She didn't get affected. She didn't recognize why she was this way. People danced around her, trying to stop the self-harm if they knew, but mostly people wrote her off and ignored her now. That isolation never really bothered Emma because it was better than letting people in who could leave her in the future. Yet here was confusing, rude but caring to some, Killian Jones ruining her façade and routine.

Emma ignored Killian for the rest of the lab. She didn't look at him and she didn't speak to him. Killian could follow along or leave her to it but she wasn't waiting around to find out. She was scared of what would come out if she did. Emma just wanted to finish and get out of the lab. Sure Killian was also in her next class but she could ignore him there. No one would blame her for not talking to people during class.

Whale called Emma to his desk just as she was trying to leave. Mary Margaret and Regina each gave her a nod and continued on to English class.

"Yeah?" Emma asked, shifting uncomfortably. Whale was looking at her with his Victor look not his teacher look which meant this was personal and not about her academics.

"Are you okay, Emma?" Whale asked, leaning back in his chair and looking at her carefully. Emma nodded. She wasn't ever really okay but she was _fine._ "You know I know you."

"I do."

"So you know I notice when you're harder on yourself. I also know Ruby and know you haven't called her about what happened a few days ago."

"What's she going to do? She can't fix this problem, Victor. You're the one who stuck me with Jones." Ruby couldn't come in and force everyone to leave her alone. Ruby couldn't make Killian Jones any less confusing to her. Ruby was busy being happy with Mulan and having what Emma could never allow herself to. Emma wasn't going to bother her. It was bad enough that Granny had to deal with Emma issues. And apparently Whale was getting in on it now too.

"And I'm sorry for that, Emma. I didn't know you'd clash like that. I have to admit I was surprised to see you when you showed up and I forgot why I agree to put you with the Blanchard girls every year." Emma gave him a startled look at which Whale smiled softly. "Didn't know I knew? Emma, I've known you since you were ten. I know."

"Sorry," Emma muttered, glancing down. She always hated it when people brought up her habits like that. She knew she shouldn't have been doing it but there was no other solution. There were days when the urge to sit down at her dusty piano and play were so strong she could only fight it off by making it impossible for her to play. Emma couldn't play. There would never be anyone but her parents that could get her to play again and they had officially renounced their guardianship four years prior, technically making Granny her foster mother. That had been a hell of a final conversation to have with the people who were supposed to love her forever.

"Don't apologize, Emma. Just please, let yourself be happy."

Emma could only shrug. "I've got to go." She shouldered her backpack and left the lab, trudging up to English and pretending not to feel the stares that still hadn't died down.

Emma was about to enter the classroom when Killian Jones appeared from the other direction, striding up to her. "Swan, I wanted to talk to you."

Emma paused, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glancing into the classroom. "And why's that?" Really, what else could he have to tell her?

Killian shrugged. "I honestly don't know." Emma rolled her eyes but inside a recognition flickered. It seemed that he was just as confused about the two of them as she was. She pushed it away to keep her tone firm.

"Me either, you made it pretty clear what you wanted in your letter."

Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear, sheepish and chagrined. "I know. I just," Killian sighed, frustrated at not being able to voice what he wanted to. Again Emma felt the pang of recognition.

Killian grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the open classroom door and the potential for prying ears. Emma froze, stumbling along after him, unsure how to process the hand around her forearm. It was unnerving and foreign and not completely unpleasant- which made it all the more stressful. Killian released her and Emma sunk to the floor, shaky.

Killian bent immediately, reaching out, worried to a degree Emma didn't think he could show to anyone but his brother. "Don't touch me," Emma hissed, drawing in a breath and pulling her arms tight against her chest. "Just tell me what you want."

"Did someone hurt you?" Killian asked in a low voice, shifting down to sit next to her but with a wide gap between them. Despite her irritation at him she had to appreciate the gesture. It was more than most people understood so soon. Even Mary Margaret still had trouble with Emma's aversion when she got excited.

"Isn't that obvious?" Just like that first day Emma was shocked at the little facts Killian could draw out. How he was getting behind her walls she couldn't figure out. She'd built a castle around herself for the last eight years, so strong that Emma couldn't even get out. "Just tell me what you want since you've already pulled me out of class."

Killian sighed at her. "I wanted to thank you. For the dinner."

"You already did. I got the letter. I do know how to read."

"I know, Swan. Could you just let me do this?" There was a genuine sincerity to Killian's voice behind the exasperation. Emma shrugged, knowing she was acting like a bitch but not sure how to convey what she wanted to- not that she knew what that was.

"I just- I wanted to thank you for being so good to Liam. You could have sent him away or you could have just gave him a biscuit. But you gave him a full meal and filled his belly."

Emma shrugged, feeling awkward at the soft tone of Killian's voice. "Liam was hungry."

Killian was quiet for a few moments, chewing at his lip. "You also didn't report him to Children's Aid."

"Not my place. Liam was happy and you seemed like you were trying your best. I know what it's like," Emma finished with a little shrug. Killian's eyes flicked down to Emma's hands. She shoved them into her armpits to hide the residual bruising and the scars they would always have. How did this man figure out so much about her?

"Thanks."

Emma nodded and pushed herself off the floor. There was no point in going to class so she might as well go do an assignment somewhere she could be alone. Emma was a few steps away before she turned on impulse. Killian was still sitting on the floor, watching her. "If Liam ever needs food again- tell him to come by. You too." Emma turned before she could process the look on Killian's face at her of all people freely inviting him Granny's Diner for meals whenever needed. She had no desire to process how much that meant to Killian. She didn't want to process anything except for her chemistry assignment, which was exactly what she did for the rest of the period, tucked up in the private back cubby of the library.


	7. Stressed Out- Twenty One Pilots

_A/N:_ Ready to meet Ruby? I hope so because she's arrived to give Emma some food for thought. The next two chapters after this were pretty much the most fun for me to write for a while even if they are rather dramatic. Thanks so much for your support on the last chapter (and this story as a whole since it's a bit different than what I usually write)! I really appreciate it! My life is still really busy/stressful so they really brighten my day when I get them. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Song: Stressed Out- Twenty One Pilots watch?v=pXRviuL6vMY

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of self harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

A loud noise, automatically grating on her nerves woke Emma on a Saturday morning, a few weeks into September. Emma groaned, glancing at the clock- 8:00. She didn't have to work until 10:00 and had no plans to get up until ten minutes prior. The noise sounded again- this time the origin of the sound clicking. It was someone slapping piano keys.

Emma rolled out of bed. Maybe Granny was cleaning the piano? No one ever really touched it except for the days Emma would roll her fingers over the wooden top when no one was home, wishing and hating herself for it.

"Morning, Sunshine!" A familiar voice trilled as Emma trudged into the living room. Ruby in all her glory was sitting at the piano. Her red dress fanned out across the bench, dark hair rolling down her back in loose curls. She looked like a famous pianist, all poise and beauty, the appearance Emma had always wished for when she dreamed of being a principal pianist. Now Emma was just jealous she had her life together.

"Hey, Emma. Sorry for the rude awakening," another feminine voice trilled. Mulan, Ruby's girlfriend, stood towards the kitchen. She was much less well dressed than Ruby was, understandable with the early hour. Her long black hair was piled onto her head in a floppy bun, hoodie marked with the logo for the University of Maine across the chest and slim fitting sweat pants encasing her toned legs. "She forced me."

"Why is she here at all?" Emma asked, blatantly ignoring Ruby to focus on Mulan. Ruby slapped the keys again causing Emma to cringe.

"I'm going to go get some coffee now." Mulan gave her an awkward smile before turning and hurrying through the kitchen and out the door to the diner below.

Ruby hit the keys again. "Will you stop that?" Emma yelled, whirling on Ruby. The sound grated on her ears, especially so early in the morning.

Ruby turned on the seat, brow raised. "Will you talk to me if I do?"

"Why? What's there to talk about?"

"Let me see your hands." Emma immediately went to shove them behind her back but Ruby was quicker, vaulting off the piano bench to grab them. Ruby was pretty much the only person who had no qualms about breaking Emma's personal space rule which was why she was holding tight to Emma's wrists, examining the bruising that was underneath two of her nails and the scratches across another knuckle. Ruby held the hands higher and gave them a little shake. "This. This is why we need to talk."

Emma sighed, pulling her hands away and flopped on the couch. There was no point in fighting Ruby. She'd call for backup. Her girlfriend studied war strategies, there was no way Emma could avoid the two of them. Ruby gave a triumphant smile before settling next to her.

They were quiet for a while. Ruby waited for Emma to control her annoyance and get ready to have a productive talk. Ruby was used to Emma's reluctance to let anyone in. She'd perfected the approach over the years.

Eventually Emma sighed, accepting defeat. "How did you know?"

"Victor."

"Damn, I should have known he would pull something like that."

"Victor just worries about you. Like we all do," Ruby answered, tone placating

Emma shrugged at that, guilt gnawing at her. She knew people worried about her but she never did anything to stop it. Was that selfish of her? Should she be pretending that she was okay when she wasn't to make everyone else feel better? Probably. If she had done that Ruby wouldn't be sitting with her.

"Victor worries too much."

"I'm sure," Ruby answered with a raised brow. "Because just hearing what he thought last night didn't make me wake up at six a.m. to come here and see you."

"I don't know what to tell you," Emma sighed. She didn't have the energy to fight this and she knew she shouldn't. Ruby was just trying to help, as much as Emma wished she wouldn't spend time worrying about her. She wasn't worth it.

"Just tell me what's wrong, kid."

"Where do I start?"

Did she start with her eight years of abandonment issues? Did she start with how last week in school they had a university fair and Emma wandered around, completely lost, until she had a panic attack and hid in her car, slamming her fingers in the consol. Did she start with how terrified she was of life after high school when she had no plan? How she was scared she'd never find something that fit her as well the piano did? How she couldn't go back to piano because her heart broke every time she thought of it? How she no longer had a reason to play? Or about the lab partner who frustrated and worried her? Who brought up unwanted feelings that she wasn't capable of dealing with?

"How's Regina and Mary Margaret?" As if that was an easy place to start? Regina had got in on early acceptance to Princeton, her boyfriend planning on attending a university in the same state for environmental studies. She was bound for law and a future with her forest ranger. Mary Margaret was looking at Maine State University to pursue education, dreaming of the day David would finish at Police Academy and come to work in the city with her. They were caught up in their own lives and Emma didn't want to interfere.

"Perfect," Emma replied, bitterness clear in her voice.

"They always have been in comparison haven't they?" Ruby answered. Emma knew she was exaggerating. Mary Margaret had lost her mother and Regina had lost her father. They were controlled by a mother who demanded perfection. Their lives weren't perfect as Emma had said. But they had futures they wanted. And she couldn't help but be jealous about it.

"They know where they're going."

"And you don't."

Emma shook her head and raked a hand through her tangled blonde hair. Emma had no idea. It was terrifying. Seeing all the options at the university fair she'd felt hopeful at first. There had to be something that would catch her attention, right? But there wasn't. Nothing seemed right. She kept comparing the programs to being a principal pianist. It made her want to cut her fingers off.

"You do, though, don't you?" Ruby added softly.

"I can't. You know that."

Ruby was quiet for a moment, pondering her words carefully. "Why can't you, Emma? You have more talent in your damaged little pinky finger than I have in my whole body. Hell, in Mulan's too and she's pretty awesome." Emma didn't laugh at the attempt at lightness.

"It's not the talent, Ruby."

It wasn't talent. If it was Emma would have no problem with her future. From the hours of practice as a child Emma could still play a lot of pieces by memory if she wanted to. All the Tchaikovsky, all the Chopin. Hell, she could play some modern songs just from ear. Listening to the radio in her Bug her fingers ached to play the new Twenty One Pilots song or beat out Adele's new album to an arrangement that conveyed the exact emotion Emma felt about being forgotten. But she couldn't. Because it wasn't the talent.

"So it's your parents?"

It was more than just her parents but they created the mess. It came down to ambition. Her parents' ambition had taken them from her never to return. Ambition tore families apart. Ambition left her alone. As a child Emma would tell anyone who would listen what her ambition was. But now, now that desire burning deep inside of her terrified her.

"Emma, they don't deserve your pain."

"They created it. Make your bed and lie in it, isn't that how it goes?"

"Not when you're the one lying in it."

"Tell that to them," Emma muttered under her breath.

Ruby bared her teeth and growled. "If I ever find them I sure as hell will. Emma, come on. Why can't you pursue what you love?"

Emma was quiet, playing with the nail on her middle finger. She really should paint it to cover the bruising. "Because it would make me happy."

"It makes you happy?" Ruby repeated slowly as if that was the worst reason in the world. And maybe it was. "Happy is good, Emma."

Emma shook her head. "Happiness makes people dream. When people dream they get ambitious. Ambition takes people away from the people they love. If I do that I may-"

"Turn into your parents." The realization dawned on Ruby and she softened.

Emma nodded. "I don't want to abandon Granny."

Ruby gave a gentle sigh. "Leaving Granny is okay. She wants you to go pursue your dreams. Just because you move away doesn't mean you don't still love Granny. I moved away and I still love both you and Granny but I'm also taking care of my own happiness. You know that right?"

Emma shrugged. She still wasn't totally over the fact that Ruby had left a few years ago. "Victor didn't leave and he's happy."

"Oh, Emma." Emma glanced at Ruby, sensing from the change in tone she wasn't going to like what was coming. "The main reason Victor called me last night was because he got accepted to medical school. It's always been his dream and now he's pursuing it. This will be his last year in Storybrooke."

Emma froze. Another person was leaving. Ruby had already left and wasn't ever coming back. Mary Margaret and Regina would be moving at the end of the summer to their new university lives and would forget about Emma. All her classmates, even though they didn't know Emma, were going on to live out their potential and dreams. Even Victor who'd been teaching for two years at the high school was leaving. And Emma wasn't.

"Emma, you aren't your parents. You're kind and caring and you won't neglect those you love. I know this is your past causing these thoughts and I don't know how to make it better but trust me. Happy is good. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life here working at Granny's Diner?"

"At least I'll be here." The idea terrified her but chancing leaving for good was even scarier.

Ruby ran her hands through her hair, tying the brown strands back in a lose knot, looking annoyed. Emma felt another tinge of guilt but there wasn't much she could do. She'd answered Ruby's questions and told the truth. What more could she want? "Okay. How about we change the subject?" Emma nodded, grateful. "How about you tell me about this lab partner you haven't spoken to in weeks?"

Emma groaned, throwing her head into her hands. She was going to kill Victor. "There's nothing to tell." Ruby raised her eyebrow and motioned for Emma to continue. "Killian's just some new guy. He doesn't like me very much."

"I doubt that."

"And how would you know?" Emma shot back, feeling her walls raise again.

"You know how. Victor said this Killian guy stares at you with this awed disbelief even though you won't say a single word to him. According to Victor you're the only person he doesn't constantly scowl and yell at. Why are you being so rude to this guy?"

"Killian's rude to me."

"Is he?"

"He insulted me the first day and I nearly spilled the story about my parents. He keeps telling me to play the piano. And then he tells me he wants nothing to do with me but keeps talking to me." Emma felt like she was a five year old trying to explain why it wasn't fair she didn't get the cookie.

"Okay, so that's not cool," Ruby conceded. "But if that's all Killian's done, why are you being like a selfish kid? Victor says it looks like this guy's had a hard life, just like you have." _Harder,_ Emma thought despite herself, feeling heat rise in her cheeks at Ruby's words. Was she being selfish behaving like this? Could Killian just be trying to do- well something that Emma was missing?

"I don't know."

"Tell me how you feel about him, Emma. We can figure this out together. At least then you'll have one less thing to worry about." Except, figuring out what was going on between them was even more terrifying than not knowing.

"Killian's so angry." Emma bit her tongue on explaining why. It wasn't as if she knew for sure and it wasn't her story to tell. She just had her suspicions that he was being abused at home. "And he's all withdrawn and isolated."

"Sounds familiar, carry on." Emma scowled at Ruby's words. Why did everyone think she and Killian were alike?

"Killian's got this younger brother, Liam, who's like seven. He's really protective of him. I'm pretty sure Killian acts as his guardian." That part of Killian sparked her curiosity. Despite everything Killian still seemed fiercely protective of the ones he loved. Emma could actually understand that.

"So Killian's parents aren't around?" Again, Ruby sounded like she was implying that they were similar.

Emma shrugged. "Not really sure." She figured at least the father was around and was the one who was abusing the boys. Wasn't like she could ask though.

"And what's Killian look like?"

"He's a little young for you," Emma answered, hedging. How could she tell Ruby that Killian was the most handsome guy she'd ever seen? Despite everything, his attitude, and Emma's issues, he still sparked something inside of her. How could she tell Ruby that there was something about those blue eyes that settled her fears when he touched her even when her body wanted to run? That as much as she pretended she didn't, she felt a kindred spirit with the angry and hurt man who did so much to protect his younger brother from the cruelness of the world? How could she tell Ruby that the actual reason Emma didn't speak to Killian, the deep down fear hidden reason, was because when she looked at him she actually wanted to talk? And listen?

But from the look Ruby was giving her it seemed like Emma didn't have to say anything. "Emma Swan," Ruby said with a pleased little smile, "you are well and truly into this guy."

 _No, she was well and truly fucked._


	8. What the West Wind Saw - Debussy

_A/N:_ Short chapter this time but it's setting up the next which is much longer (I split them up because together it would have been too long). I hope you like the first taste of crisis. Next chapter will have a lot of Emma/Killian interaction as a result of this one and will be up Monday. Thank you so so much for all your support on this story, it's blowing me away and I appreciate it so much. Let me know what you think of this one. Enjoy! I hope you have a Happy and Blessed Easter if you celebrate!

Song: What the West Wind Saw- Debussy watch?v=fv_3mD5XHqs

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of abuse and self harm.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Sunday night found the Diner quiet with Ruby and Mulan gone back to their apartment and Granny at a church function until nine. Emma was finishing up at the Diner, cleaning the tables and floors now that the Diner was closed for the evening.

She appreciated the silence as she ran a cloth soaked in Windex across the front window, the way the cleaner stung the cuts around her finger nails keeping her grounded. While Emma missed Ruby so much when she was away, she often forgot how exhausting being around her could be. Ruby pushed and pushed and then pushed some more. She expected so much from Emma, a level of togetherness and life that Emma couldn't reach and that filled her with guilt. It was too much. Emma didn't want to think about piano or Killian. She didn't want to think about the talent she was throwing away or about the attitude she had that kept people away. Emma just wanted to go back to living back in her quiet little world where people watched and gossiped about her but otherwise left her alone.

The one thought that kept bugging her was about how she felt about Killian according to Ruby. What was the point in indulging how she felt about Killian anyways? Ruby seemed to think it was worth it because Killian _stared_ at her. As if the whole town didn't do that? The old ladies who watched her as she walked down the street certainly weren't lining up to date her. Killian wasn't going to reciprocate anything because there was nothing there. Why would he want to be around a girl who pushed herself to isolation because she was terrified when he had his own issues? Killian had his own brother to look after. He didn't need to be watching out for her destructive habits as well. She wasn't worth his time so it was a waste of energy to think anything but. If Emma started dreaming that Killian may actually feel something- well that spelled disaster.

No one wanted to be held back by her. Not even her own parents.

The Diner phone started going off in the kitchen. Emma frowned, a bit confused. Maybe it was Granny checking up on her now that Ruby had left? No one called the Diner for food purposes. Granny had been at the job for so long that she knew everyone's orders and their schedules so calling in for takeout wasn't a thing people did more than a few times a year. The people of Storybrooke just showed up and were greeted by large brown bags filled with their favourite foods.

Emma threw her damp cloth into the container full of cleaning liquid she'd been carrying around and hurried into the kitchen, nearly slipping on the floor that was still drying after mopping.

"Hello? Granny's Diner," she greeted, catching the old phone on the last ring.

"Is Emma Swan there?" an accented and panicked voice asked. Emma stiffened. _Killian._ Something was wrong if he was directly calling her, especially at the public diner, and it chilled her to the bone.

"Killian?"

 _"Swan."_ It was a whisper of relief, sounding like a small indulgence into the emotion he normally kept so controlled. Emma felt her palms begin to sweat. There was a quiet whimpering in the background that was too high pitched to be Killian. _Liam?_

"What's wrong?"

"It's- Look, never mind, I shouldn't be bothering you." Killian's voice changed, back to the proud one she was used to, as if he just realized he had called. Emma mind was whirling, trying to keep up with Killian's attitudes. It was obvious that he didn't ask for help well. But Emma couldn't read his mind.

"Killian Jones, you tell me what's going on." Emma fought to keep her voice neutral even though she wanted to scream for answers. She felt this _need_ to know. To help. Thankfully her brain was too busy whirring about the strangeness of the situation to focus on where this desire to actually be _involved_ in someone else's life came from.

Killian sighed, as if he were about to admit his greatest fault. "Lee, he's hurt."

Emma's heart sped up. Something had happened to that innocent little boy with the genuine smile? "Is he in the hospital?" Emma itched to run up to the apartment and grab her Bug keys but the phone was attached to the wall, keeping her there, foot tapping in agitation.

"No, no hospital." Killian sounded distracted. That little whimper sounded again. No hospital? It dawned on Emma then- this had to do with Killian being scared of Children's Aid being notified.

"Okay. What do you need?"

"I, uh." Killian cursed, sounding like he was shifting something in his arms. "I need help. I didn't know who else to call. I'm behind the school. Can you come?"

What good could Emma do? She wasn't a doctor and she was terrible with people. But it must have been serious if the proud and independent Killian Jones was actually asking for help. It broke Emma's heart a bit that she was the only one he could call- her, the girl who felt useless to everyone. But Emma supposed that no one else liked him much- the town closing ranks against the outsider. And if poor Liam was involved….

"I'll be there in a minute."

Emma slammed the phone down on the base and sprinted up the back stairway. She gasped for breath as she skidded into the living room, darting into her bedroom to grab her the keys sitting on her dresser. Once they were in her hand she turned on her heel and went back the same way, running out the front door of the Diner, barely remembering to pause to lock the door before jumping in her car and driving towards the school.

Emma pounded her fingers against the steering wheel as she sped along the quiet road. She wished she could go faster but she couldn't risk getting pulled over. All Emma could do was wait and hope that Liam would be okay.

Emma parked in the side parking lot for the school. No one was around because of the time and the day which explained why Killian was hiding on the property. It wasn't as if he could sit on the curb with Liam in whatever condition he was in if he were hiding from Children's Aid. Emma could understand the aversion if he was trying to keep his brother with him but if things were escalating- Emma was worried.

Emma shut her car off and hurried across the grass to the back of the school. When she came around the corner she saw Killian sitting on the grass, Liam laying across his lap as Killian tried to cradle him. When she got closer she could hear Killian whispering to Liam about how he was sorry, how he'd fix it all in a few months, how they just needed to be careful. How _Emma Swan_ was on her way.

Emma gave a cough as she approached to let Killian know and avoid the awkward realization on his part that she'd heard it all. Killian jumped, looking up. A trickle of blood was dried down Killian's mouth from his nose, small circular bruises dotting the sides of his neck. _Finger prints_ Emma realized with a start. She wanted to run her own fingers over them, soothe the pain he must be in.

"I'm fine," Killian snapped, stopping Emma's staring. She nodded before bending down in front of Liam. Liam had a large gash running up his bicep, blood spilling down Killian's arm where he held his brother and soaking Liam's shirt beyond repair. The little boy's face was pale and his eyes closed, looking like he was in a fitful sleep. "I gave him some Gravol so he'd sleep through it."

Emma nodded. For Killian to know to do that this couldn't have been the first incident. But Emma knew not to ask what had caused the injuries. _Yet._ "The cut's going to need stitches or he's going to keep losing blood."

Killian's face blanched. "That's what I thought. Can you stitch it? I would but-" Killian held up his stump, moving it slightly. That explained why Killian had had to ask for help.

"You're asking me to stitch Liam's arm? Killian, I'm not a doctor." Emma worried her lip between her teeth. How was she supposed to stitch up this little boy's arm when she couldn't even touch someone without freezing up?

"Can you sew fabric, Emma? That's good enough. Please. I can't lose the lad too."

Emma could sew. She didn't live eight years with Granny, the queen of knitting without learning how to sew. Killian was watching her with desperate and open eyes, ones that she just couldn't leave without helping.

 _I can't lose the lad too._ Emma, the lost girl, the girl who had no parents anymore because she wasn't wanted, wasn't important enough, now had the chance to help keep another family together. Emma jumped up.

"Get Liam in the car. We'll take him to Granny's."


	9. One Call Away- Charlie Pluth

_A/N:_ Here's one of my favourite chapters so far for character development. Sorry if there's any mistakes- life is crazy since my thesis is due Friday. Thanks for all your support. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=BxuY9FET9Y4

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Killian hefted Liam into his arms, cradling his small body against his chest. Held like that, limp and pale, Emma could see just how small Liam was. And with all the blood- Emma steeled her thoughts to focus and hurried ahead to get the back door open.

Killian slid into the back seat, laying Liam across the fabric but keeping his head on Killian's lap. Emma hurried around the car and slid into the driver's seat, glancing anxiously back at them. Killian wasn't watching her. His eyes were trained on Liam, dark and stormy with worry.

The rumble of the car engine starting was the only sound in the silence. Emma didn't know what to say in such a situation but the quiet was starting to make her panic. What was she doing? She couldn't play doctor for Liam? What was she going to do, just march into her apartment and soak a cross stitch needle in vodka? And what about Killian? Was he okay? Was he hurt and just pretending so Emma only focused on Liam? And how would this change the rocky relationship she had with the dark haired man?

Emma snapped her fingers against the leather of the steering wheel as she drove through town, alternating the hand she kept on the wheel. The hard surface pushed at her nailbeds, beating bruises along them from the violent way she was hitting them. Pain was radiating up her fingers to the joints, collecting there and ready to burst, forcing her to stay present and not dive into a panic attack. Emma could feel Killian's eyes on her but he didn't say anything. He seemed to realize Emma wasn't in control at the moment but taking away the one thing keeping her tethered would be a bad decision.

Emma pulled into the parking lot behind Granny's. Killian got out, looking at Emma carefully, as if she were going to fly apart at the seams. She sat in the driver's seat, taking deep breaths and digging her pinky finger into the space between the seat and the consol. Liam whimpered against Killian, the sound spurring her from her spiral.

"I'm fine," Emma told him when she got out, her words echoing Killian's earlier ones. If he felt the same way she did there was no way he was actually fine. Killian gave her a sharp nod, stepping out of the way for Emma to pass.

Emma led the way up the back stairs and into the empty apartment, very conscious of the heavy breathing Killian was doing behind her. It sounded like every step was agonizing. But she didn't look back because Killian's pride wouldn't handle it and Emma didn't want an argument.

"We'll take him into my bedroom." It wasn't like the sofa made a very good hospital bed and Granny would kill her if she got blood on the slip cover. Best do it in her room in case.

Of course Killian had the energy to pause at the upright piano pushed against the wall right before the hallway that led to Emma's room. Emma turned when she heard the steps stop, expecting his body to have finally crashed but instead Killian was staring at the picture Granny continued to replace. The one of Emma, a smiling ten year old with her two parents in front of Cinderella's Castle at Disney. That had been the day before they told her she was going to stay with Granny while they worked a contract in Europe.

"You look different," Killian murmured, looking like he would have reached out to touch it had his arms not been full.

Emma marched back and snapped the frame forward, covering the picture. At least this time Granny hadn't replaced the glass so there was nothing to smash. "Yeah, well, I was younger."

"No," Killian replied, shaking his head. "That's not it."

Emma felt her face heat and she couldn't be sure if it was out of anger or of embarrassment at the soft and curious tone Killian was using about her past. Maybe he guessed that that was the last time Emma had been truly happy? That that was one of the last days she'd ever seen her parents in person? How after that day the laugh lines she'd had slowly started to turn to frown ones? How her hands weren't covered in bruises and cuts? Yeah, of course she looked different. That little kid wasn't Emma Swan. Not anymore. Emma turned on her heel and continued to her room.

"If you want my help stop gawking at the photos." Killian gave an unintelligible murmur back before joining her in her bedroom.

Killian laid Liam down softly on the bed while Emma rooted around for a needle and some thread. The best she could come up with was some pink thread Granny had used to sew up a pillow last summer. But it was that or dental floss so they'd have to make due. Emma returned with the needle, thread and as many bandages as the tiny first aid kit she kept in her bathroom had.

"Go sanitize this with hot water or booze or whatever you find in the kitchen," she instructed, giving Killian the needle without pause. "I'm going to clean up the wound so I can see what's going on."

"You sure you can?"

The words weren't meant to goad her. It was a genuine question based on Emma's dislike of human contact. Emma glanced towards Liam. The poor boy had never asked for this. He didn't deserve what he went through. She could do it for him. She had to make things better for him tonight. Emma nodded.

Emma crossed the room with her supplies, sitting down gentle on the edge of the bed near Liam's injured arm. There was a lot of clotting now, the blood flow slowing but even around the shirt Emma could see that it was deep. Drawing in a deep breath she reached forward and grabbed the edge of the boy's sleeve. The shirt was too big which made rolling it up his arm easy. She didn't stop until she got the cotton up over his shoulder.

There was already bruising visible beneath the drying blood. With shaking fingers Emma reached over and grabbed a half full water bottle off her bedside table and doused a piece of gauze. Balling it up she started to dab at the injury, looking for shards of whatever had cut him or dirt that could cause infection. Towards the bottom of the cut was a hard bit covered in congealed blood. Whistling through her teeth to keep her breathing Emma reached two slender fingers forward and gripped the object, pulling it out. She held the peachy coloured ceramic up.

"It was a plate," came Killian's grim voice from behind her. Emma jumped, dropping the shard.

"Did you get the needle sterilized?" Emma bumbled out, surprised that Killian would admit anything freely about the incident. A plate? That would have had to have been thrown awfully hard to do the damage it did. It did confirm Emma's suspicions about the abuse though. That sent anger rolling through her.

"Yeah. Here." Killian passed over the needle. Emma took it, her fingers brushing over his, hot and rough on her own. As if Emma's hands weren't shaking enough already.

Emma grabbed the needle and the thread, attempting to hold them up and thread the needle. She tried and missed multiple times, each time changing the way the needle and thread sat between her fingers.

"What's wrong? Just thread it," Killian instructed, nervously watching his brother.

"I'm trying," Emma ground back. "I don't have much feeling left in the pad of this finger." Emma held up the hand with the thread. She'd burned the fingerprint off a few years ago, using a casual mistake with the fryer in the diner as a cover for her own self-mutilation. From the repeated injuries to her hands, some still there to ache as she moved, completing such a task was no easy feat. For the first time anger at herself for what she'd done to her body rather than guilt at being caught stirred within Emma in regards to her self-harm.

"Here." Killian reached out and took the needle from Emma, holding it out. "Thread it with your other hand."

Momentarily touched by the offer Emma shifted the thread to her other hand. She twirled it around between her fingertips several times to tighten up the strands before moving forward. Chewing her lip in concentration, Emma was able to thread the needle on the second try.

When Emma looked up, Killian was giving her a proud smile. She brushed it off, thinking it had to be his pride at himself for thinking up the idea. Emma turned and moved back to the still sleeping Liam.

She drew in a deep breath. Surely sewing up Liam's arm wouldn't be much different than sewing up the back of a chicken like she did at the diner? Emma moved her hand towards Liam's arm before pausing.

"What if I mess this up?" She didn't mean for the tone of her voice to be quite so panicked. Behind her Killian sighed.

"It doesn't have to be pretty. It just has to work."

Emma nodded. It sure as hell wouldn't be pretty. "Hold the sides of the cut together." There was no way Emma was going to be able to do both at the same time with the way she was shaking.

Killian came forward and sat down beside her, thigh brushing her own. When Killian felt the contact he froze, coughing awkwardly and tried to shift away. His leg was as warm as his hand, the muscles taunt against her own.

"Its fine," Emma replied, surprising herself. "Just concentrate on Liam." Killian stopped moving and reached for his brother, pushing the two edges together. Emma tried to concentrate on the way the blood was oozing out of the cut now rather than the way Killian was leaning slightly against her to reach his brother. But it was hard. _Really hard._

Emma dipped her hand closer to Liam's arm, the needle hovering just over his skin. _Just like a chicken._ Emma pushed the needle in, cringing, toes curling and shaking. She was so thankful that little Liam was still knocked out on Gravol and didn't have to witness this. Emma shifted the needle and it poked through the other side, pulling the tip of the cut shut. Emma made a knot in the thread so it wouldn't pull open before starting a second stitch.

Liam whimpered when she was tying off the third stitch. Emma froze, terrified she was doing something wrong. "Lad's still asleep. Keep going," Killian urged. "You're doing great, lass."

Sighing out a nervous breath Emma started to move again. Her fingers ached from such fine movement, the swollen and bruised skin protesting. Again Emma felt anger flare at herself. She knew the anger would go away when she returned to her normal life of fighting everything but tonight- tonight she was upset that she couldn't just leave herself be.

It took ten stitches to get the wound closed. It wasn't pretty and it wasn't smooth but blood was barely leaking from it anymore. Emma grabbed some more gauze bandaging and taped it in place over the stitches before getting up and hurrying to the bathroom.

She kicked the door shut and turned on the tap, frantically scrubbing at her hands. Blood washed from her fingers, pinking the sink basin. She couldn't believe what she'd just done. She'd touched, she'd said it was okay for Killian to stay against her during the process, how for a few minutes she'd been angry that she self-harmed, that she wished she could just be happy with herself. For a few moments she wished she'd just let herself play piano because she would have kept the dexterity she needed to properly help Liam.

Emma turned the heat of the sink up, the steam rising as she continued to scrub. There was a knock on the bathroom door. Emma ignored it, turning the heat up again.

"Swan? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Emma had said she was fine an awful lot lately. Had lied an awful lot.

Before Emma could turn the lock the door opened, Killian barging in, eyes worried. "Bloody hell, lass," he shouted when he noticed how hot the water was. "Emma, you're burning yourself."

"No, just cleaning," she murmured back. _Cleaning herself of problem thoughts._

Killian shut the water off before grabbing Emma and pulling her from the bathroom. She struggled, panting in anxiety but Killian didn't let go. Killian didn't stop until they were back in the bedroom and Emma was planted on the chair in the corner and he was squatting in front of her.

"Swan, you're okay. Lee's okay. You did a good thing."

"I thought-" Emma muttered before stopping herself, glancing down at the shiny pink skin of her hands. She'd feel that once the adrenaline wore off.

"Thought what?"

Emma shook her head. _Pull yourself together, Swan._ Emma gave her head another shake, drawing in a breath so hard it whistled through her teeth and made her cough.

"You should make sure Liam has sugar when he wakes up."

"I know the drill, Swan. But what about you?" Was Killian Jones actually worrying about her? No. It had to have been pity. Emma pushed herself up from the chair, afraid he saw her for how weak she really was.

"Where are you going to take him?" Emma asked, pacing over to where Liam was sleeping. There was no blood soaking through the bandage, proof she may actually have done an okay job. Emma didn't let pride flare in her though, not when she'd nearly fucked up everything, including her own rules about the future.

"Home," Killian answered. Emma turned sharply, about to argue, when Killian cut her off. "This isn't my first time. Papa will be asleep when I get home with Liam because I drugged his beer with more Gravol on the way out and when he wakes up tomorrow he'll forget everything happened." Emma opened her mouth again and Killian held up his hand. "I don't need you telling me it isn't safe. Tonight was a mistake on my part. I didn't intervene fast enough. We just need to make it a few more months until I'm eighteen and can be Lee's guardian. We'd be separated if we get reported now." Killian sounded so determined in his plan that this time Emma couldn't argue.

"Okay. But before you leave clean up the blood on your face. Looks a bit like you got into a bar fight."

Killian nodded with a grateful look in his eye before leaving the room. Emma wouldn't argue and she wouldn't report. She may come to regret that decision but for now she'd do as Killian asked. But that didn't mean she couldn't finish off this bizarre night by helping out the brothers.

Emma hurried to the kitchen and dug around for a Tupperware container. Finding one in the size she wanted she moved to the fridge. Inside was a half-eaten lemon meringue pie from the restaurant that hadn't sold that day. Emma cut two big slices and placed them in the container, sealing them tight. She looked at the food for a minute before turning to the counter and grabbing a piece of paper, scribbling down her phone number and taping it to the top. _Just in case._

"Swan? Where did you go?" Killian called, moving through the apartment.

"Here," Emma called back, turning to see Killian carrying Liam. He'd washed the blood from his face, water droplets still hanging from his hair. She held out the container. "Sugar. I put two pieces in so you need to eat one too."

"Swan, you don't need to do that. We've got food."

Emma shrugged. She really didn't want Killian to put up a fight about this. Especially if that fight meant he would pay extra attention to the container and see her phone number. "But you don't have Granny's."

Killian raised his eyebrow. "Interesting argument. But alright. Liam will be pleased. But we should go. We've used up enough of your hospitality."

Emma nodded, moving with Killian towards the door. She opened it for him. Killian gave her a nod before moving through and down the back stairs. Emma watched from the frame of the door, a strange feeling stirring in her as Killian walked away. At the bottom of the stairs, Killian stopped, turning and looking back. Emma ducked back quickly, shutting the door. A light chuckle echoed through the wood and Emma had to smile a bit back, dropping her head towards the floor in embarrassment.

Emma's phone buzzed in her pocket. She shifted around to grab it. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen. With a flick of her sore finger Emma opened the text message.

 _Thank you. KJ_


	10. The Lost Boys- Warbeck

_A/N:_ Guess who just handed in her thesis? A whole year of work compiled into one 109 page document! Now that that's done I should have time and energy to get back to writing this story. Thankfully I still have 4 chapters in store (that are quite good, especially one where we learn more about Killian). Thanks so much for all your support on this story. I'm blown away and it means so much to me! Let me know what you think of this one. Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=ov8pWEhrd_E (add / to the start of the link to get it)

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

When Emma showed up to chemistry Monday morning Killian was already in the lab, back to the rest of the class who were chatting and waiting for class to start. Emma gave him a puzzled look before turning towards where Mary Margaret and Regina were bent over Regina's laptop. When Emma got closer she realized they were once again looking at university options but instead of education programs for Mary Margaret they were looking at music. Specifically the Manhattan School of Music, one of the premiere music conservatories for study in the whole world. Which also just happened to have a classical piano program.

Emma turned on her heel and marched into the chemistry lab.

Killian didn't turn as Emma approached, shoulders stiff in a way that boded ill for his mood. But, between talking about a music degree and chancing Killian's wrath, Emma would chose Killian no matter what. As she got closer she noticed the darkened bruises up the back of Killian's neck, more apparent than when she'd seen him the previous day. It rolled Emma's stomach to see the evidence of his attempt at intervening for Liam. Killian had the collar of his leather jacket popped up so the bruising was less visible, only noticeable between the leather and hair if the person was looking specifically for it.

"I brought your container back."

Emma stopped, a step behind Killian. "How did you know it was me?"

"You approach differently than the wankers in this class." Killian glanced over his shoulder towards her then gave a shrug, voice tight with controlled anger. Was that the reason Killian was upset and in the lab early? Emma could understand that.

"They are assholes aren't they?"

Killian snorted as Emma came fully up to the counter, examining the supplies laid out in front of them. For the first time Killian had actually done something in the lab. Usually he leaned against the wall glowering while Emma did everything, equally as sour and determined not to interact. But today-

"I didn't mess it up," Killian put in defensively when he noticed Emma looking over the spread of flasks and test tubes. It seemed like two minutes was all Emma was going to get of civil Killian.

"Never said you did."

"I can still carry things with one hand." Killian was talking through gritted teeth. Had the students been commenting on his amputated arm? Emma wanted to go and shake the assholes in her class. But that would do no good for any of them. The last thing Killian would want was to be tangled up with Emma in the eyes of the students. At least talking in the lab it could reasonably be about the assignment and keep him out of the line of fire.

"I know." Emma wasn't sure how she was keeping her voice from rising with Killian's. She was certainly feeling like she should be. Maybe she was just exhausted from trying to figure him out.

Killian took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Liam wanted to come to the diner to thank you but I told him no."

Well, that confirmed that Killian didn't want anything to do with Emma. She didn't know why it hurt so much. Wasn't like anyone else did either. Killian had only called her because he had no other option- not because he wanted to. Why would he keep up an illusion that he wanted her around when it did nothing for him? And keeping his brother away from her, well that would just make the whole process easier.

"That's fine."

Killian glanced at her sharply at her dull tone, eyebrows pulling down. "It wasn't-"

Killian was cut off by Whale coming into the lab. "Emma, Killian, I've changed my mind on lab today. Some of the students don't understand the theory behind the liquid meniscus we're going to be creating so I'm putting it off until Wednesday."

Emma nodded, hurrying away from Killian. It didn't matter what excuse he was going to give her. All that mattered was that she didn't matter. Emma gave Whale a terse smile as she passed him, not wanting him to think anything was wrong and call Ruby again. Killian followed much slower but Emma didn't wait.

"How are you?" Mary Margaret asked when she'd sat down, fighting to keep her face blank. Why should it matter to her that Killian didn't want his little brother around her? That he didn't want to be around her? Ruby's words echoed through her head. _You are well and truly into this guy._ No. No she wasn't. She couldn't be. Emma shoved her fingers around the metal space in her desk, looking for sharp edges. Finding one she started the push the edge of her hand against it.

"Fine," Emma answered, trying to keep her voice clear. "I can't hang out tonight though, I've got to work." Emma didn't actually have to work until Wednesday but the idea of going up to the mayor's mansion and getting ambushed with information regarding music degrees when she'd been very serious and clear about never playing music again made her want to be sick.

Mary Margaret pouted. "Aww, really? We wanted to watch that new show on Netflix." _Sure._ Because Emma hadn't just seen what she and Regina were looking at online. And Emma knew it wasn't for Mary Margaret. The girl couldn't even play Chopsticks if Emma herself held her hands through it.

"Sorry."

"But you're still coming to my archery meet Friday right?"

Emma nodded. She wasn't cruel enough to bail on that. Mary Margaret was an excellent archer and she and Robin, another skilled competitor, were both in a local meet to try and qualify for state finals. Emma wouldn't be able to make it to see Mary Margaret at State so this would be her last chance to watch her friend compete, potentially ever. "I'll be there."

Whale called the class to order then and Emma let the forced smile slip from her face. It was exhausting trying to keep up façades. She knew she brought most of it on herself but Emma was so far into it all now she had no idea if it was possible to get out, if anyone would want her if she did. At least there were a few people who associated with her as she was. Because of that she stayed the way she was- less risk that way.

Emma zoned out from class. She'd spent Saturday night after Ruby went out with Whale trying to understand the lab so she really didn't need to listen. Her mind kept going back to what Mary Margaret and Regina had been doing. There had been a time when the Manhattan School of Music would have been on the top of her list of things to do apart from going straight to the New York City Ballet. It was in the city she wanted to be in because it was the city her parents had gotten their musical starts in.

But now the idea just made her mad. Didn't her friends know and care? _No Emma. They don't know._ Because she never told them why she hated New York now. It was the New York Philharmonic which had organized for her parents to go to Europe on that initial short term contract. Her parents had been playing with the Portland Symphony Orchestra at the time but an old contact from their past had called them with the opportunity. And then Emma had gone to Granny's, an acquaintance her parents had met when they vacationed in Storybrooke every year. Looking back Emma should have known that they wouldn't come back, that their insistence Granny enroll Emma into the local school for just two weeks should have seemed strange. But for a ten year old used to bouncing around as her parents got new jobs with different orchestras, a ten year old who had never had a true home, it was just another step. As long as the house had had a piano Emma was happy.

That was then. And Emma couldn't help but be mad. No, not mad. Disappointed. Her friends might not know why she wouldn't move to New York but they knew why she didn't play the piano anymore. They knew why she'd never enter a music program. Hell, if Emma wanted to pursue music in the academic sphere she'd go to the Oberlin. But she _didn't._ Emma wanted to forget the way she used to play. Forget the way music filled her with this light that was almost magical. Forget the way her fingers itched whenever she heard a new song that would arrange beautifully for the piano. Or how her heart broke when she saw the little girls going into the ballet studio across the street from Granny's and heard the strains of a poor version of Warbeck's The Lost Boys from the Peter Pan Ballet production they were putting on in the spring. But the teacher had asked Emma to play for them and she'd said no so there was really no room for her to criticize the way the piano was off key for the last two octaves or when a chord progression would miss a note from the other hand and fall flat.

Movement around her alerted Emma to the class being over. Mary Margaret and Regina were already leaving, perhaps aware now that Emma had been onto their ambush plan and were giving her space to cool down. Emma was thankful for that decision. She didn't want to push them away any further by saying something she'd regret out of anger.

"Swan." Emma didn't turn from her desk as the feet of the one person who kept pushing her away approached. "You left this in the lab." Killian set the Tupperware container down in front of her.

"Thanks." Emma shoved the plastic container into her backpack, noting with a curious pang that it had been scrubbed clean, as if Killian, or maybe Liam, had actually cared enough not to give her back something dirty. Emma stood, Killian stepping back to give her room.

"Emma, listen," he started, scratching behind his ear. Emma kept walking. What could he actually have to say that wouldn't hurt any more than knowing she wasn't worth spending time with?

"Swan," Killian called, catching up to her in the hallway. Emma stopped with a huff. "You misunderstood me earlier. I told Liam not to come by the Diner because I didn't want him to bother _you._ I didn't want him under your feet or pestering you with questions about things you obviously hate talking about."

"You thought Liam was going to bother me?"

Killian nodded. "It wasn't because I don't want Liam around you." Emma gave a shocked raise of her brows before trying to cover the movement with a cool, unaffected face. Killian gave her a sheepish look in return, the corner of his lip tilting up. "You're a bit of an open book, lass." Killian sighed. "If something ever happens, we don't have anyone to call but you. I don't want him to irritate you so much that you start to hate us. That's if you don't hate us now," Killian added, looking down, shoulders falling. In that little movement Emma saw the lost little child inside Killian, the boy who thought everyone would always hate him so had built his armor out of anger and spite. Emma knew the look. She had seen it looking back at her since the day she got the call from her parents to say they would no longer be anything more to her than the people who had birthed her.

Maybe they were both so lost that no one could find them but someone as equally lost. Someone who was so far off the path that they were around to just randomly stumble into the other. And then, even though they may never find their way out of the messy jungle, at least they weren't alone anymore. Maybe sharing that together was more important than some path that was perceived to be _right_. Maybe Emma could be brave and share, leave a breadcrumb for Killian to return as well.

"I don't hate you," Emma replied softly with a little shake of her head.

"Good. Because I don't hate you either." With that Killian turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Emma standing, a bit stunned and alone, in the hallway.


	11. Unsteady- X Ambassadors

_A/N:_ Here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Also, this chapter mentions Emma's birthday coming up and I just realized that I skipped her birthday in future chapters going from a few days from when this chapter takes place to Thanksgiving. Do you guys want to see something with her birthday (Emma hates celebrating and really wouldn't be doing anything because she already knows that at 18 she'll be technically out of the foster system but Granny is keeping her)? Or is it okay that I've skipped it to Thanksgiving that will involve the Jones brothers? I want to be able to do what you guys want. Let me know! Thanks so much for all the support! It means so much to me. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=pFjryf8zH_M (add / to the start. I can't figure out how to put links in).

Warning: This chapter mentions abuse and self-harm.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma tossed her book bag behind the counter in the Diner, shoving it with her foot into the cubby near the floor. She had an hour to work before leaving for Mary Margaret's archery competition. Emma still felt a bit annoyed at her friend for trying to force her into talking about music school but things had gotten better. Mary Margaret and Regina went back to focusing on themselves and not Emma's flailing future. They didn't talk about Emma unless she wanted them to, which meant they never talked about her. And as much as Mary Margaret seemed to want to they certainly didn't talk about Killian Jones.

People were starting to notice that Killian was angry and aloof to everyone but Emma. That's not to say he was friendly to her, but he would greet her, maybe make a few quips in chemistry class before going back to glaring at anyone else who dared look his way. Emma didn't know what to make of him. They weren't friends. They just didn't hate each other. Emma was thoroughly confused by Killian Jones.

Killian refused to let Emma use the Bunsen Burner and if she started tapping or hitting her fingers he'd say something to startle her, mainly because she never heard his voice enough in class to get used to it. Killian never made a big deal about her self-harm or that he would try to stop it every time, as if he truly cared about her. When he smiled that tentative little lost boy smile, filled with both a timid hope and disbelief Emma didn't want to ever see anything else. But then he didn't search her out or talk to her any more than he had to. In English class he sat at the very back of the room, scowling and was always packed up and gone before Emma could even stand. When he got angry with her she wanted nothing more than to let the pit in her stomach swallow her up instead of getting angry right back and fighting. It all just left her so confused, because to be fair, Emma didn't really know what she wanted from Killian other than maybe to stop making her feel so unsteady.

The Diner door dinged open but Emma didn't bother looking up, going back with a sigh to the counter she was supposed to have clean for people to eat at.

"Emma!" Emma glanced up when she heard that funnily accented voice. Liam, smile bright, hurried towards her. The door opened again and Killian entered, much slower and hesitant, eyes sweeping the empty diner before landing on his brother, and then Emma.

"Emma!" Liam called again, scrambling up onto the stool in front of her. Emma had to smile despite the thoughts she'd been having earlier. Despite everything that little boy had gone through he still wasn't letting it ruin him. If only Emma had been that resilient at that age.

"Hi Liam," Emma returned, trying not to pay attention this brother. She didn't know what to think of the way she felt his eyes on her. She also didn't know what to think about how that made her feel. Emma snapped her fingers against the lip of the counter. Killian coughed, bringing Emma's eyes up to him, fingers stilling. Killian just raised an eyebrow and Emma looked away quickly.

"We're here for pie," Liam informed them. "Killian got a job. We're celebrating with pie." Killian groaned at his brother's blunt statement. Emma felt pride fill her for a moment and she gave a small smile at Killian. Now it was his turn to look away, the tips of his ears reddening as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I guess I better get you some pie then."

"Apple please," Liam requested. "Killian likes cherry."

"I can speak for myself Lee," Killian grumbled. When he noticed Emma pause at the counter he shrugged. "Cherry's fine. Lee wasn't lying."

Emma snorted but went to get the two slices of pie. Granny already had them waiting for her in the kitchen. "I see the Jones boys are back."

"Killian got a job. They're celebrating."

"Celebrating the older boy forgetting how to blink when he looks at you," Granny muttered. Emma grabbed the plates, ripping them away and marched out of the kitchen. She tossed the pie down onto the counter in front of Liam and Killian before grabbing her wash cloth and moving to the other end of the counter to clean.

"Killian's job's at the docks." Emma looked up when Liam had moved down to the end of the counter with his pie to once again sit in front of her. Obviously the kid didn't get the mood Granny had just put her in. Killian was still sitting where she left him but watching her and Liam closely.

"That's good," Emma answered, continuing to scrub at the counter, scratching at a bit of dried ketchup.

"We like the water." Emma hummed in response, secretly filing away that little tidbit about Killian for later, but unsure what to do with it. "What do you like Emma?" Liam asked around a mouthful of pie.

"Lee," Killian put in, standing, sharp tone a warning. Killian crossed the floor to stand behind Liam. Emma looked down at the counter to avoid the way Killian was watching her with such a gentle carefulness. That unsteady feeling ran through her again.

"Sorry," Liam answered, bowing his head. Emma's heart twisted. The boy wouldn't have been reprimanded if Killian didn't know Emma's issues.

"You know what? I've never been sailing," Emma answered, drawing the conversation away from herself but allowing Liam to have his moment. Liam picked his head back up, eyes bright.

"Really? It's awesome! I'm a really good swimmer. Can you swim?"

Finally a question about herself that she could answer. "Of course I can," Emma answered with a relieved smile. "All good members of Storybrooke learn how to swim at the beach." Emma caught Killian's wry twist of a smirk as he caught the irony in her words. She rolled her eyes upwards when Killian raised a brow.

"Did you grow up here then? It seems like a nice place to grow up." Liam's tone was far more wistful than she would have expected out of such a young boy.

"It does seem nice, doesn't it?" Once again Killian caught her voice, perhaps a bit of wistfulness coming through her own tone. But it wasn't a longing to have grown up in such a stifling little town. It was a longing to have grown up in a stable environment, to not have moved around every few months as a child, never getting to measure her growth on a doorframe or make memories in the kitchen, commemorated in brownie batter stains on the ceiling. That was what Emma longed for.

Emma turned away from the counter. It was time for her to leave if she was going to make Mary Margaret's competition on time. When Liam saw her put on her coat he scrambled off his stool and rushed over, all innocent hope. Killian growled, slapping a few dollars down on the counter before following his energetic brother.

"Where are you going?" he asked, bouncing a bit on his toes.

"My friend has an archery competition."

"Like Robin Hood?"

Emma snorted. Regina liked to call her boyfriend, Robin Lock, Robin Hood, delighting in the coincidence. She drew the line of him ever dressing up as him though. No green tights. "Actually, yes."

"Can I come?" Liam asked, looking up at her with those big eyes that were at once questioning but also pretty sure she'd say no. Deep in his gaze was the look of a child who had continually been told no, past the point of neglect, no matter what his confusing older brother tried to do to make up for it. Emma found her lips sealed shut. She just couldn't say no to the little boy with the giant cut hidden under his sleeve, with the pale anemic looking skin and disheveled hair. No matter how much she'd prefer to be left along (or pretended to prefer that).

"It's up to your brother."

Liam gave a little whoop while Killian looked at her in surprise. He'd obviously been expecting her to be just another no on Liam's long list. Or maybe he'd wanted her to be. Maybe he was feeling just as unsteady by her as she was of him. _Probably not._

"Please Killian?" Liam asked as he turned towards his brother. "You said we can't go home for a while yet anyways." Killian's eyes flicked up to Emma, checking to see if she'd caught that little bit. She did but she pretended to be oblivious.

"Fine." Killian sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Let's go." Liam gave a dazzling smile, one Emma caught herself wishing she could see on Killian. She pushed the thought away, turning and marching out of the diner.

"Is this your car?" Liam asked, as Emma led them to her Bug.

"Yeah," Emma answered, running a loving hand over the door. "She's mine."

"You're so lucky!"

Emma nodded. Yeah, she was lucky. She was lucky she had Ruby. Ruby had bought the car for herself on her sixteenth birthday but had given it to Emma several years ago when she moved away, buying a more reliable car for highway driving. For Emma though, this car was more than enough. She sometimes wondered if Ruby had given her the car as an olive branch of sorts after being left behind because Emma adored the car and despite the creaky window and sometimes broken radio, Emma couldn't find the faults in the car that Ruby had.

Killian slid into the passenger seat while Liam got into the back and Emma in the driver's seat. Emma tried not to look at Killian in the edge of the rear-view mirror as she backed out onto the road. Killian was currently sitting very stiffly, leaning towards the door and away from her. She tried not to let that hurt her. It wasn't like she was giving him any sign she wouldn't mind if he leaned closer (if she even wanted that at all).

"How old are you, Emma?" Liam asked from the backseat where he was sitting on his knees so he could see out the window. Emma realized belatedly that he probably should have a car seat and pressed the brake, slowing them down. Liam didn't seem to mind though, or notice anything awry. Maybe he didn't actually have a car seat? Maybe they didn't actually have a car?

Emma stopped to think of the date. It was October 17th. Shit, it was nearly her birthday, nearly the time when she'd be an official adult. "I'll be 18 next week."

"You're so lucky," Liam sighed, repeating the words for the second time. Emma glanced at Killian who'd bowed his head in defeat that his brother would be able to keep anything close to his chest, before looking back at Liam.

That got Emma thinking. Some people wouldn't consider her lucky. She did get a pretty shitty turn in life. But to Liam she was beyond lucky. Maybe she was lucky beneath all the hurt? She had a home she could go that was safe. Granny would always give her a meal. She was lucky enough to have a car to get her where she needed to. She was nearly eighteen, nearly a legal adult with all the privileges that would bring to someone who needed to get away from a poor home situation. And if she really wanted to dig down and accept it, she was extremely talented. If she wanted to she could pursue music as a career. That was if she could ever get past all the scars and pain the idea of being a pianist held.

Maybe Emma's lot in life wasn't as dichotomously black and white as she assumed. Maybe it wasn't about declaring yourself unwaveringly unlucky because of one major event that had shaped everything. But it could have been worse. Granny could have said taking in a child as a foster parent when her own parent's renounced guardianship without warning was too much work. She did already have Ruby to take care of after all. No one would have blamed her for not wanting the angry and hurt teenager. Granny could have sent Emma to a group home. Or become angry and resentful and abusive of Emma for taking up space and resources in her life. She could have told Emma she had to earn her room and board instead of being allowed to save any money she earned at the Diner, usually to put gas in her car. Granny wanted what was best for Emma, even though Emma was too scared to want that for herself.

Maybe Emma was lucky. But what did that mean for her then? Did that make her a bad person for wallowing all this time? No, not really, because there were things to be upset about. She was still abandoned by the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally. She was still traumatized by that and suffering the consequences. She still self-harmed because it was the only solution she could come up with to protect herself from sitting at the piano or accepting that she was throwing her future away. By having injured hands no one could get mad that she wasn't playing piano or pursuing her dream of being a principle pianist. She wasn't throwing her life away but instead limited by damage to the skin and joints of her fingers. Then she wasn't doing it because she was just too scared and broken. But maybe just only dwelling on what was bad was doing more damage to her than actually protecting her. _Maybe._

"Swan, we're here." Killian's softly lilting voice cut through her thoughts. She glanced over, realizing that she'd driven in a fog to the school. Liam was already out of the car, watching the two of them through the windshield.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," Emma replied, giving her head a little shake.

"What's got your attention?" Killian asked carefully, looking worried. "Was it what Liam said?"

Emma nodded and Killian cringed. "But it's okay. I'm not upset. Just-" she floundered for words.

"Unsteady?" Killian asked, looking at her with a strange little cock of the head. Emma felt her jaw drop open a bit before she caught it. How did he know how she had been feeling all day? Had he been feeling it too?

All Emma could do was nod and add that curious thought to the list of things the Jones brothers gave her to work through next time she got brave.


	12. Valse Sentimentale - Tchaikovsky

_A/N:_ Sorry this didn't go up last night, I had an event with some of my friends who were graduating and the profs and didn't get home until late. I gope you enjoy this though! Thanks for all the support! We're nearly at 99 followers! And a little hint for Monday's- it's named after a great song from Hercules and I'm pretty pleased with Emma's realization (or not).

Song: watch?v=rUuusqy50yk (I figured out how to do links!)

Warning: This chapter mentions self harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Liam led the way around the school to the feel in the back, Killian and Emma walking behind, side by side, extremely aware of how close they were and also of the way several students head's turned when they appeared on the field. Emma could see the lips moving as they spoke to those around them about Emma showing up with Killian Jones. Emma tried not to focus on them. Of course then she started focusing on the fact that she was actually spending her free time with Killian Jones.

The archery field was set up towards the back, lengthwise along the grass. Students were milling around in school colours with bows in their hands like some sort of Lord of the Rings meets Harry Potter fan convention. Large targets were built at various different distances from the lineup. A table where two judges sat was off to the side of the archery area. The event hadn't started yet, a large crowd waiting. Emma and Killian stopped off to the side to watch, Liam moving around in front of them, trying to take everything in.

Mary Margaret and Robin were stretching and warming up closer to the course. Regina and David stood with them, dutiful partners. That made Emma's chest twinge with something close to longing. She was glad Killian was the kind of person he was in that moment because he had no problem in keeping them towards the back.

Regina turned a few moments later, eyes scanning the crowd, probably for Emma. Her eyes landed on Emma then flicked to Killian, eyebrow climbing. Emma had to bite her tongue to keep from groaning. A small, interested smile started to spread across her face. Emma gave her head a little shake, eyes pleading with Regina not to make a big deal out of the company she'd found herself in. It would embarrass Killian and having someone else talk to Liam would probably set him on edge with the risk of Liam spilling secrets about their lives. Regina's smile softened to something of almost understanding before mouthing later. Emma gave another nod, thankful.

"So what's going to happen?" Liam asked, turning and looking up at Emma.

Emma glanced at her phone, checking the time "It will start and they'll have the girls shoot first and then the boys and start narrowing it down in heats after until there are winners."

"That's cool," Liam answered with a nod. "Which one's your friend?"

"I have two actually," Emma answered. "Mary Margaret has the short black hair and Robin has brown hair and is wearing green. You'll see them more towards the end because they're better."

Liam looked thoughtful for a while. "Are you good at anything like your friends?"

Emma stiffened and Killian cursed under his breath. "No," she forced out. Lima didn't seem to notice anything awry though, but that may have been because he had started waving at another boy who'd arrived.

"Killian, can I go see Ben?"

Killian followed his brother's stare, considering his options before glancing back at Emma. "Alright but you're not to go out of my line of sight and you need to come back here when Ben leaves."

"Thanks!" Liam turned and rushed over to his friend, greeting the other boy with a big high five. Liam astounded Emma. Somehow that boy had learned to be resilient, to have friends and smile. Was that something Killian had taught him or a natural skill that they needed to be infinitely thankful for?

"I think we both know you just lied to my brother." Despite the words there was no accusation in his voice. It was more curiosity than anything. Emma shrugged, glancing at the grass under her dirty and scuffed sneakers.

"How do you know?" Emma asked, pretending Killian wasn't actually able to read her as well as he was.

"I'm rather perceptive, lass," he answered with a shrug of his own. "I've been in your house, seen the piano. And then what you said about your hands and well, what everyone else says about you."

"They like to talk."

"So how much of a lie was it?"

Emma found herself not wanting to lie. To actually tell someone about the life she was running from. And for some reason Killian just seemed like the right person.

"They called me a prodigy."

Killian raised a brow. "Like Mozart?"

Emma snorted before letting out a laugh. It hit her that this was the first time she'd laughed about the piano in years. "No, not quite. More like, the most promising talent in Eastern US."

Killian nodded. "Good. I was going to say, you're not near broody enough to be the next Mozart." Emma found herself once again laughing. As if Emma wasn't overly brooding. Killian gave her a little triumphant grin, as if his sole purpose had been to make her smile. Emma rolled her eyes.

"So when Liam talked about Storybrooke- you didn't grow up here either did you?"

Once again Emma found herself not surprised he'd caught that. But she was so appreciative he hadn't pushed her about piano or how she was throwing her skills away she decided to answer. "Before coming here I moved when my parents did. Longest place I'd ever lived was a year because they mostly worked short term contracts. I was in Portland before here." Emma glanced over to Killian who was watching her carefully, oblivious to the archery competition that had just started. "I take it you're not from here either."

Killian smirked before shaking his head. "I'd say that was pretty obvious." Killian seemed hesitant to say much else, eyes vacant as if he were weighing his options for what to say next. A few moments later he decided. "I'm from Brighton."

"That's on the coast right?" Emma thought she could remember seeing it in a travel add once, found when she was searching for places to run to a few years ago. The name brought back the memory of a jaunty little place on the sea with brightly coloured houses and tourist traps on the beach. From what she remembered it seemed like it was an idyllic little place.

Killian nodded with a faraway smile. "Right on the water."

"Is that why you chose Storybrooke when you immigrated? Because we're on the coast too?"

"No," Killian answered, tone darkening. Emma worried she'd overstepped in asking about his story. Killian, like herself, obviously had a lot that he didn't want to share. Maybe he thought it was safer for no one to know? Maybe it was related to the abuse he and Liam suffered. Killian drew a deep breath, pulling himself back from whatever dark thoughts Emma had brought on. "I was in Maryland for two years before this and before that we were up in Connecticut for a while. I know what it's like to move around a lot."

"Sucks doesn't it?"

Killian gave a little half nod. "Sometimes. But sometimes it's safer to run."

"Is it this time?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, her hand raising as if to catch them and shove them back in her pocket.

Killian looked at her carefully, as if he had no idea how many of his cards to show then. Emma raised her eyes to look his right in his own. There was a certain hope deep in that blue gaze that told her he'd caught the meaning behind her words. This was about more than just running from child protection or a shitty home life as the surface might say. This was also about them. "Still trying to figure that out."

"Me too."

Killian gave her a small smile before turning away from her to watch his brother chatting animatedly with the friend he'd found. Emma turned her attention back to the archery competition. Robin was taking the course then, looking determined. Sometimes people said he had an enchanted bow because he was so good. Three _thwacks_ sounded as the arrows hit the bullseyes of the various targets in rapid succession. The crowd clapped politely while Robin strode back to Regina, planting a kiss on her cheek to which she grinned in response. No one could make Regina so happy.

Emma and Killian stayed quiet, just standing next to each other. It was nice to be with someone who understood not every silence needed to be filled, that not every free moment needed to be about fixing someone's problems. Sometimes there was no answer other than to fumble around and hope that you eventually figured your shit.

Despite the people milling around them Killian never took his eyes off his brother. How many times had that gaze saved his brother? How many times would that gaze continue to protect and step in? Emma swept her eyes down Killian's lean figure, as if she could see any of the injuries he kept hidden under thick leather and scowls. Emma found herself wanting to pull off the layers and see the scars, feel them, take them from the man with more burdens than any practically boy should.

Emma shook her head, as if that could push out the thoughts that would only bring her more trouble, and turned to focus on Mary Margaret whose turn had come. She was less calm than Robin was, bouncing between her feet. There was a shout from the crowd of good luck, one Emma immediately placed as coming from David in the front row. Mary Margaret grinned, drew in a deep breath then turned and notched her arrow. What followed was a very similar showing to Robin, with three perfect bullseyes. When she finished and lowered her bow David rushed over, picking her up and spinning her around.

Her friends were lucky to have who they did. It made Emma jealous and she was not sure how much longer she could fight that. She wanted someone. Not that she knew how she would manage that with her aversion to physical touch or the fact that she didn't really know who she was anymore. People didn't want the person she pretended to be- this angry and aloof teen with the shitty sob story. But _no one_ would want the girl the mask hid. The broken and lonely person who sometimes still felt like she was eight years old and ached to be loved. _To be enough._ No, Emma was too much for anyone to want. Right?

A louder person behind them entered the field. Emma didn't think anything off it though, figuring it was just someone talking to a friend since it was Friday and they were excited. Nothing about loud people on the field struck her as strange until Killian stiffened and whipped his head around.

Emma turned too, surprised to see it was actually only one person. Crossing, or rather stumbling across, the field was a tall and skinny man. The man had long black hair, falling to about his chin in thick curls. He was talking seemingly to himself. It was obvious the man was under the influence of something. Killian started cursing. Or maybe not. It hit Emma then. This was Killian's father. She wanted to run at him and hit him, make him hurt like he made Killian and Liam hurt.

Killian turned back to Emma, ducking to her face. "Emma, I need you to take Liam."

"What?" she asked, feeling her adrenaline climb.

"Emma," Killian said again, her name coming out like a prayer. "I need to get Papa out of here before people see or he makes an ass out of himself. Can you please get Liam and get him away?" His eyes were desperate, flicking between her and his father who was nearing. People around them were starting to notice the newcomer.

Emma drew in a breath. "I'll take him to Granny's, give him supper."

"Thank you, lass. I'll text you when it's safe to bring him home." Killian moved to turn away and Emma stepped in front of him, feeling a desperate fear growing for the piece that was missing here.

"What about you? Will you be safe?"

Killian paused. "Just take care of Liam." Before Emma could say that wasn't an answer he was gone, hurrying across the field. She wanted to yell at him to get his ass back to her but that would make more of a scene. Instead she turned and pushed her way through the crowd.

Liam was still where he was when she had last seen him. She hurried up behind him, crouching down to his ear. "Liam, you need to come with me."

Liam turned, shooting her a confused look. "What? Where's Killian?"

Emma glanced over her shoulder, finding Killian immediately as he crossed the field to his father, shoulders stiff and hand in a fist at his side. Liam followed her gaze, eyes immediately darkening as his smile fell off his face. "I've got to go, Ben. See you Monday." Emma didn't think her heart could keep breaking for these brothers but it seemed that after eight years of pretty much only allowing it to break for her own situation it decided it wanted to crumble for someone else. Emma didn't quite know why, and if she stopped to process how sore her chest felt from it she wouldn't get Liam to safety.

Emma stood and what Liam did next shocked her. The little boy reached up and grabbed her hand. Instead of pulling away or stiffening she intertwined her sore and bruised fingers with his small, bony ones. She started pulling Liam through the crowd towards the fence on the other end of the field, knowing she could go through the gate and loop around to the parking lot and her car. The crowd covered their escape, a relief because Emma got the distinct suspicion that Killian's father wouldn't enjoy his son being whisked away by a stranger.

"Where are we going?" Liam asked, voice so much smaller than Emma was used to, as she let them out the fence gate. All the bubbliness was gone. Was this the Liam who existed inside his own house? When he wasn't safe and alone with his brother?

"Granny's. Is that okay? I thought we could have dinner."

"Okay. Can I have a glass of chocolate milk?"

"You can have two glasses," Emma answered, earning her a tentative little smile.

Emma bundled Liam into the backseat of her car before hurrying to the driver's seat. She hesitated against the door. How was Killian going to get his father home? There was no way the man had driven over. Or maybe he had? Didn't seem like he cared about much, why would drinking and driving matter? Would the man hurt Killian? Would Killian be able to get him subdued? Could he do it alone?

Emma chewed on her lip. Killian didn't seem to care about his safety. That strange man only seemed to care about one person. Emma sighed and got into her car. The least she could do was make sure she kept that person safe.


	13. I Won't Say I'm In Love - Hercules

_A/N:_ So this chapter may not seem like much because there isn't much action but in it Emma has an important realization and takes a huge step (though small action) in her mental health recovery. There's also a nod in this chapter to a previous story of mine. Can you find it? The next chapter is one of my favourites. It's another big step for Captain Swan and you learn about Killian's back story. It will be up Thursday. Thanks for all the support. I really appreciate it! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=Tl0DMTlwLw4

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Granny was at the counter when Emma walked into the diner with Liam. The boy was clutching her hand again. Emma led him over to the counter, letting go when they reached a stool, so he could climb up. Granny was watching it all curiously, eyebrows raised.

"Hello, Liam," she greeted.

"Hi," Liam answered, tone still timid. Granny pursed her lips, recognizing that there was definitely something wrong.

"Liam," Emma said softly, leaning down on the counter next to him. "I'm going to go get you supper, okay? Anything you want?"

"Grilled cheese?"

Emma nodded with a smile. "Here," she said, going around the counter. She grabbed her laptop from under the counter and set it in front of him. "There's some games on there, I think. Why don't you play some while I get your supper?"

Liam nodded, reaching for the computer. "Thanks."

Granny followed Emma into the kitchen. "Why don't you tell me why that boy's with you when you were going to the school? And why he was holding _your_ hand?"

Emma went to work making the grilled cheese. "Can you put some onion rings on, Granny?"

"Alright, but that's not an answer."

Emma sighed, deciding how much to reveal. "The Jones have a shitty home life. Something happened and Killian didn't trust anyone else to take care of his brother."

"And you let the boy hold your hand? Something I wasn't even allowed to do?" Granny moved into her personal space, knowing Emma would take a step back and away from the hot stove. She lowered some onion rings into the fryer while she waited for Emma's answer.

Emma shrugged. "Liam was scared."

"And is this home life something I should be worried about?"

Emma shook her head, knowing she was lying but knowing she couldn't betray Killian's trust in her. "Killian's got it under control. I'll come to you if I think there's something that needs to be reported."

"Promise me?"

"Yes, Granny. We both know what happens when things are reported-" Emma replied, trailing off. Granny gave her a hard look before nodding.

"Okay. Flip that grilled cheese and don't burn your fingers." Granny walked away to fill another order. Emma really hoped not telling Granny wasn't going to be a mistake. She desperately wanted to grab her phone and text Killian to see if he was alright. Was he hurt? Had he gotten his father home?

A shot of pain went through her finger as she nicked her hand against the grill while flipping the sandwich. Emma stepped back, going to the sink and turning on the cold water. She sighed when the icy water swept over her hand. As she stood there she realized this was the first time in her memory that she hadn't relished, or at least put up with, the self-harm pain. Even when she'd been angry about her lack of dexterity when stitching up Liam's arm she didn't do anything to make it better, instead letting herself get so stressed out that afterwards she went and scalded her hands right up to the wrists. She didn't actually want this pain because today she had more important things in her life than her own past. Today she had a scared and sad little boy to look after because his brave brother just went and put himself into harm's way to protect the boy. Today she realized she was lucky and had responsibilities to people around her other than Granny.

Emma shut the water off and moved back to the grill, sucking on her sore finger as she pulled the sandwich onto a plate. Granny returned a few moments later with two orders of onion rings as Emma was filling a glass with chocolate milk. All the food got loaded onto a tray and Emma made her way out of the kitchen to where Liam was clicking around on her computer.

"I'm not very good at Minesweeper," Liam lamented as Emma set the food in front of him.

She laughed. "Me either. How about we put it away for now to eat?" Liam nodded, reaching for his sandwich and pulling it apart. Emma leaned up the counter and grabbed the Ketchup bottle, squeezing some out for both of them on the side of their onion ring plates.

"Thanks for dinner," Liam said around a mouthful of grilled cheese.

Emma just smiled in return, pleased to see the colour returning to his cheeks. She popped an onion ring into her mouth, gasping at how hot the inside onion was. Liam laughed at her expression. It was a relief to see his smile coming easier.

"Has Killian texted you yet?"

Emma shook her head, trying to keep the worry off her face. "Not yet, but I'm sure he's got things under control."

Liam nodded, looking as if he was desperately trying to believe that. "Killian's always got things under control. He just got a job so we'd be okay here."

Emma's heart twisted. How much did Killian do to keep them a float? Did his father do anything useful? Emma wanted to ask but knew it wasn't her place. If she was ever going to find that out it would have to come from Killian's mouth.

"I wish I could get a job to help too," Liam sighed, looking a bit desolate.

"I'll tell you what," Granny said, sidling up on Liam's other side and sitting down. Of course with her wolf ears she'd hear everything. The boy wasn't exactly subtle. She pushed a plate of cookies and another glass of chocolate milk towards Emma and Liam. "How about I make you a deal?"

Liam turned his full attention from his food to Granny, watching her both curious and suspicious. Emma felt the same way. Granny had that mischievous planning look that always meant there was something in the works in her head.

"What?"

"Now, you're too young to have a job, but if you come here once a week and do some chores I'll teach you how to cook and give you and your brother a free meal." Liam was looking at her in wonder, his little body practically vibrating in excitement.

"Yes please!"

"It will be good to have a set of young eyes around to help me." Emma wanted to roll her eyes. There was nothing wrong with Granny's eyes.

"I'll do it. I have really good eyes Ms. Granny."

Granny smiled, completely charmed by the littlest Jones. To be fair, so was Emma. And she was beginning to wonder about the older Jones as well. "Good. Come by Monday after school and we'll cook and you can do some dishes. Okay?" Granny stood again to go greet new diners.

"Okay, thank you. Your Granny is awesome." Liam added, turning back to Emma.

Emma nodded. She didn't have the heart to explain that she wasn't actually her grandmother. It really didn't matter anymore. Emma didn't have any blood family now. "I know."

Her phone buzzed on the counter. Liam stiffened as Emma reached for the phone. Killian's name flashed on the screen.

 _Can you take Liam home? Drop him at the end of our street. Don't want you coming closer._

A few moments later another text came in. _Thanks._

"Is that my brother?"

Emma nodded. "You can go home now."

"Is he hurt?" Liam asked.

"Does he normally get hurt when this happens?" Emma asked cautiously.

Liam didn't answer, instead jumping off his stool. "Let's go. Okay?"

Emma didn't have much choice other than to chase after Liam as he dashed from the diner and to Emma's car. Most of his food was gone but Liam didn't seem to care about what was left. She made sure he was situated in the backseat before getting in and starting the car. She was still nervous about Liam not answering the question about Killian's injuries. Was Killian okay? Was he going to be injured and Liam have to take care of him?

"Where do you live?" Emma asked, glancing back at Liam in the rear view mirror.

"Down by the beach. Albatross Lane." Emma nodded, then turned back to the road, chewing at her lip. Her fingers bet a steady rhythm into the wheel. She wanted to demand Liam answer her, tell her everything, but Liam looked like he wanted nothing more than to stay quiet and get home. Emma couldn't do much else for the boy but oblige him now.

When they reached the road by the beach, a short, dirt lane, Emma pulled over. There were three houses on the lane, two of them summer cottages, but they were all dark as evening fell. She turned to Liam who was already unbuckling.

"Your brother said to drop you off here. Are you okay?"

Liam nodded. "Thanks for the drive over," he said as he opened the door and got out.

"Wait!" Emma called, reaching over to the passenger side window and rolling it down. Liam paused. "If you need anything, call me, okay? I'll come help whenever you need me."

"Thanks. But we'll be okay." With that Liam turned and walked down the road. Emma waited until the boy entered a dingy white bungalow, all the curtains drawn and the door looking like it stuck a bit as Liam tried to wrench it open. She noted the house for future reference. Just in case she had to-

Emma shook her head and pulled a u-turn, driving back to town. Just when she got her car parked her phone rang. Emma dove to the passenger seat where she'd tossed it to grab it in case it was Killian or Liam, catching it on the second ring.

"Hello?" she greeted in a rush.

"Hello to you too," Regina drawled. Emma cringed, knocking her head back against the seat. She'd forgotten Regina had seen her earlier. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

"What's up?" she asked, knowing the answer but wanting to get this over with.

"I should be asking you that. You get angry boy's little friend up?"

"Regina!" Emma shouted, nearly swallowing her tongue. She knew Regina could be blunt but this was a whole new level.

"I'm going to take that as a no?"

"Damn right," Emma growled.

"Then why were you with him?"

"His little brother wanted to see the competition."

"How did his little brother know you were going to one?"

"He asked. I answered. It's polite." Emma had to fight from grinding her teeth together.

"It's not you."

"Are you calling me rude?" Emma asked, anger flaring. Why couldn't people not make a big deal out of this? So what if she spent some time with Killian? No one was forced to against their will or anything.

Regina sighed. "I'm merely curious why the guy you swore to hate was with you at the competition. And why you two were looking _very_ engrossed in your conversation." Emma didn't like the tone Regina was taking, as if there was something inherently disgusting about Killian Jones. Though, to be fair, that was the impression Emma had given her friends about the guy.

"I may have misjudged him," Emma murmured, wanting to at least take some of the negativity from Killian but not show all her cards. Hell, Emma was still examining her cards, playing her hand before even she knew what she was dealing with could mean disaster.

"Are you in love with him?" Regina asked after a moment.

Emma spluttered. "Of course not." With an angry click she hung up her phone and tossed it onto the seat again, fuming at the accusation.

 _In love with Killian Jones?_ Emma wasn't sure if she even _liked him liked him_ yet. They'd only just been able to decide that they didn't hate each other. Anything more was foreign territory. Possibly for both of them.

Her phone buzzed in her seat, a text coming in. Emma reached over again, thinking it was Regina trying to apologize. It wasn't. It was Killian.

 _Thank you._

Emma swallowed a smile of relief that Killian was still okay enough to text. At least his fingers were in tact, whatever that meant for the rest of her body.

 _No problem,_ she sent back, still fighting her smile, her chest not feeling quite as heavy as it had been when she'd watched Liam walk into that unwelcoming house.

"What's got you so happy?" Granny asked as Emma entered the diner.

Emma shrugged. "I'm just relieved about something."

Granny gave her a suspicious look before turning back to the pie she was slicing up on the counter. Emma stood by the door, waiting to get her smile under control and back to the normal resting bitch face she normally employed to keep people at a distance. If other people were noticing maybe she didn't _just_ not hate Killian.

Maybe she did actually like him? But she wasn't going to say anything more than that.


	14. Take Me To Church - Hozier

_A/N:_ This is the last of my prewritten chapters so it's a good job I have a bit more time now to write! I hope you like this one. I hope Emma's confusion and emotions come out as much as I wanted them to. Again, there's a little nod in this one to a previous work in this chapter as well (a different one than last time). Not sure why I do it, but it entertains me. Thank you so much for all your support. I appreciate it so much. You are all wonderful! Thanks!

Song: Take Me To Church - Hozier - watch?v=c-tW0CkvdDI

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Killian wasn't in chemistry Monday morning when Emma arrived. She scowled at the empty chair, turning to look into the lab and see if maybe he was escaping the other students again. But the lab was also empty.

Where was Killian? That man was always early, always there when Emma showed up a few minutes before the bell. Was he okay? Normally Emma would chock up early absences to people sleeping in but with Killian, well she had a bad feeling. Had his father hurt him? Had Emma been wrong in assuming that he was okay when she dropped Liam off?

Emma cursed under her breath, moving over to her own chair. She turned in it, watching the door, fingers tapping in agitation. She reached into her bag and grabbed her cell phone, flicking the screen on and off, watching the minutes flick by. Every time she heard footsteps coming down the hall she'd perk up, staring at the doorway, waiting for that shaggy dark hair and black leather jacket. But it was never who she wanted to see.

Emma was glad Mary Margaret and Regina were at a college tour for the University of Maine and weren't around to see her nervous energy. Regina wouldn't let her live it down if she saw Emma so worried over Killian skipping class, especially after her accusations over the phone on Friday. But they didn't know. They didn't know Killian's younger brother had plates thrown at him with such force they opened his skin up like butter. They didn't know Killian had to intervene who knows how often to make sure his brother stayed some semblance of safe, no matter the cost to himself. They just didn't know. Hell Emma didn't really know. And that made her nervous.

Whale entered, calling the class to order before sending everyone to the lab. Still no Killian. Emma slipped her phone into her pocket before moving to her own station.

"I guess you're alone today," Whale said, coming up behind her. Emma nodded, trying to hide the way she was ringing her fingers together. "It's an easy enough lab though. You'll be fine on your own. Okay?"

Emma nodded again, pretending to pick up her lab sheet. When Whale walked away she slipped out her phone, calling up Killian's name in her text messages. Was she overreacting wanting to check in? Would he be overwhelmed and annoyed, thinking she was trying to interfere or was being nosy? Was she overreacting? Killian had been alone like this for years, he obviously knew how to handle himself.

But did he have to keep doing it by himself?

Though on the other hand, Emma was probably the last person he wanted forcing herself into his business.

She cursed at her own self-doubt and confusion before opening up a new message.

 _You okay?_

She sent it off before she could change her mind or start to realize how ridiculous she was being. _Pull yourself together Emma._ She cursed at herself again, tapping her nail against the counter. She was never this easily distracted by other people before Killian arrived.

Emma went back to the lab handout and started the assignment. If anyone was to ask her if she checked her phone every five minutes she would vehemently deny the accusation. But Emma never said she didn't lie.

There was still no sign or reply from Killian through English class. Where was he? Emma was getting even more agitated. She actually snapped at someone who bumped into her desk, where she would usually just scowl and try to melt into the wall so people would ignore her.

Most of the irritation was worry but there was part of Emma that kept resurfacing the thought she'd had in chemistry. Emma had spent eight years forcing herself not to care about anyone other than a very select few and most of her worry about those people was to do with her belief that they would leave her alone if she didn't prove she was good enough. But now she wasn't worried about caring so Killian wouldn't leave. Now she was caring and worried because she wanted to make sure he was okay. She wanted to help him to make his life easier, not really for the selfish protection that she normally indulged in. This man had crept up on her and now she felt like she had no control over her emotions when it came to him. And that was as scary as it was irritating.

Emma made it to lunch before her worry got the best of her. Killian still hadn't texted her back. As soon as the bell rang Emma shoved her belongings into her bag and hurried to her car. Starting the car she considered her options. Obviously she knew where Killian lived but it wasn't like she could just go knock on the door if he didn't know she was coming. What if his father opened the door? But if his father was home would Killian be home too or would he be away somewhere, trying to keep away from the man Emma was quickly wishing would take a long walk off a short pier?

The pier. That was where Killian was working now wasn't it? Maybe he'd be around there? Liam did say they liked the water. That seemed like the best chance for tracking Killian down. If she didn't find him there she wasn't sure what she'd do. Other than continue her decent into this slightly pathetic panic.

Emma slid the car into drive and moved towards the docks. Granny's was on the way so she pulled over and ran in, grabbing two sandwiches and a couple of cookies from the kitchen, shoving them into her bag as she hurried out again, trying to avoid getting caught by a Granny who was in the back doing inventory.

Emma hadn't been to the docks in years. If she wanted to be near the water she'd go to the beach, because it was usually empty and allowed her to keep out of the way of the people who worked the fishing vessels on the dock. Funny how Killian was once again making her break her routines and actually go to the dock, especially during working hours.

If there was actually no reason for her to worry about Killian she'd kill him for all he was doing to her.

Emma parked in the lot, groaning at all the trucks already there. How was she supposed to find Killian when she didn't actually know what his job was? Or if he was here. One way to find out. Emma grabbed her bag and got out, hurrying towards the pier.

The men watched her as she tried to casually walk around. Men watched her from their boats but Emma tried to ignore them. For Storybrooke being such a small town she didn't recognize them and that made her nervous. She scanned the area.

"'Lo love, you lost?" one of the men leered out at her. Emma stopped, watching the man as he climbed up one of the pier ladders from his boat below. Her hands fisted at her side, a chill running up and down her back.

Emma opened her mouth to speak but before she could there were footsteps coming up behind her. Emma prepared to whirl and defend herself. "I'm afraid the lass is looking for me, Tom." This voice she knew. _Killian._

A slightly wet hand slipped into hers. "Come on, lass." Killian pulled on her hand, and Emma turned. Bending close to her ear he whispered, "I'll let you go as soon as we get to the bench."

Emma nodded, allowing Killian to guide her along, focusing on how warm Killian's hand was, how relieved she was that he'd shown up, how he smelled vaguely of fish. Killian stopped when they'd gone around the corner of the pier, stopping behind a trailer container that was near a bench. He immediately released her hand and Emma drew in a deep breath, staring at the ocean.

"What are you doing here?" Killian asked. There was a bit of anger but also confusion in his tone. Emma tried not to let the blush rise in her cheeks. Maybe this had been a terrible decision?

But when Emma turned she knew she hadn't made a mistake. Killian had a purple and green bruise flaming under his eye, forcing it slightly shut. His lip was a bit split but looking like it was starting to heal. Emma ran her eyes over the rest of his body, as if she could see through his clothing for other injuries.

"Don't." Killian's voice was a whisper, eyes shutting as he sat down.

Emma nodded, settling beside him, leaving a gap between their thighs. "How's Liam?" she asked after a moment of silence, not sure what else to say. What could she say?

"Lee's good," Killian replied, a slight hint of a smile in his words. "He's very excited about his new 'job'." Emma smiled, running her fingers across the zip of her backpack. Killian drew in a deep breath, causing Emma to turn at the sound. "Why are you here?" Killian asked again.

Emma shrugged, biting her lip. Should she make up something about chemistry class and an assignment? Or did Killian deserve her honesty? To know that someone actually cared? What would Emma want if the roles were reversed?

"I was worried."

"About chemistry? Lass, you're smart enough to do it without me."

Emma shook her head, watching the waves race towards the shore but feeling Killian watching her. "No. About you."

"You were worried about me?"

"Why so surprised?"

"Did you just ask me that?"

Emma snorted. That was a fair response. "You didn't show up today and then I sent you a text and you didn't respond. And with Friday-" Emma trailed off.

"I can handle myself." _But did he have to alone?_ Emma didn't voice that though. That was too far for her. What if he rejected her, told her to mind her own business? Emma was already so mixed up by this man that she was scared to push him away and have that throw her for an even bigger loop.

Instead of saying anything Emma reached into her backpack and pulled out the bag of sandwiches and another with the cookies. She took one out and handed it to Killian who took it with a shocked expression.

"Only the egg were ready. I hope that's alright."

"It's fine, lass. More than I brought with me," Killian said, murmuring the last bit as if Emma wasn't supposed to hear it. "Thank you," he said, louder this time.

"So they didn't care that a high schooler shows up when he should be at school looking like," she waved her hand at her face, sandwich flopping in her hand.

"Told them I had a fight over a girl. They didn't care- thought that was great, bloody wankers."

"Well they seem like proper gentlemen today," Emma replied sarcastically, shivering at the look the man who's spoken to her had worn.

Killian gave a little grin around his sandwich. "Whatever pays the bills."

"Does your father work?" Emma asked, blurting out the question before she could consider it. Killian tensed and she wondered if she'd gone too far. But Killian took a deep breath, another bite of his sandwich and then started to speak.

"Sometimes. They haven't fired him yet. He works as a night janitor, it's why you've heard Liam say we couldn't go home until the evening."

"To avoid him?"

Killian nodded. "It's about the only job he can keep since no one else is around."

"Was he always like this?"

Again, Emma wasn't sure if he would answer but like Emma had felt at the archery competition, Killian seemed compelled to answer her. "No. Not until Ma died. But he wasn't really that bad then either, just drank a lot."

"You were still in Brighton then?" Emma asked, passing over a cookie. Killian took it, a little surprised O forming at Emma remembering where he was from.

"Yeah." Killian took a bite of cookie, lost in thought for a moment. Emma let him drift, just sitting there and waiting. Killian shook his head, turning to face her. Emma watched the faraway look fade from his gaze as he focused back on her. "We stayed there a year after she died. I was eight when we left England. Came to the States. I don't know if anyone from my family knows where we went." There seemed to be more to Killian's words, as if he were thinking about someone in particular, someone he missed terribly. "Six months later Papa met Lee's mother. I didn't like her. But I didn't really matter. They got married and we got our official papers for residence. Lee arrived when I was ten. After that the violence started. Papa didn't take kindly to a baby crying when he was hungover. Lee's mother took off when he was three with another man. Left Lee in his pram until I found him after school. I knew there had been a reason I didn't like her."

"You've been looking after your brother like this since you were," Emma did some quick mental math "thirteen?"

Killian shrugged. "I was pretty terrible at it then."

"You were still a child yourself," Emma replied, her heart breaking.

"I haven't been a child in a while."

"I was fourteen when I entered the foster care system," Emma blurted, shocking both of them. "Technically I was never placed. I just stayed with Granny because she'd already been in the system from raising her granddaughter Ruby."

"But your parents are alive?"

"I assume so," Emma answered. "They gave up all guardianship of me then. I haven't seen them since I was eight and I probably never will again since they aren't my parents anymore."

"Sounds like you haven't been a child in a while either."

Emma shrugged again. "Ruby seems to think I still behave like a selfish child."

"Why?" Killian asked, looking almost angry. But why would he be angry about that? Would he be actually upset for her?

"Because I don't make people's lives easier and I push everyone away."

"Maybe you're just trying to stay safe."

Emma nodded, standing, feeling like it was time she leave before she blurted out something more dangerous, something that showed just how fucked up she actually was. "Maybe."

Killian stood with her, running his hand down his jeans awkwardly. "I guess you have to go back to school."

Emma nodded, shouldering her backpack. "Will I see you this week?"

"If the bruising fades."

"Okay."

"Thanks for lunch."

"No problem." They were both staring at each other, awkwardly shuffling around, not sure how to say good bye after such a heavy conversation.

Since she wasn't sure what else to do Emma started walking back to her car. "Swan?" Killian called. Emma turned back to where Killian still stood by the bench. "I'll text you next time if I'm not coming in okay?"

"Good." Emma turned back towards the parking lot so he wouldn't see her pleased smile. She wouldn't have to worry now. She hadn't pushed him away. Emma had taken a chance and Killian had met her half way. _Huh._

If Emma didn't lose her smile until she made it back to the school, well, who was to know?


	15. Moments - Tove Lo

_A/N:_ Hope you like this one! And maybe aren't too mad at what happens (or doesn't) between our lovely pair. Hopefully Emma's emotions and frantic thoughts come through well. Let me know if they do because I'm not totally sure! Next chapter we'll see the introduction of the swan necklace. I'm going to do my best to get it up Thursday but Friday is my last exam of my undergrad so I'm not sure. Thank you so much for all the love and support you've given me on this story! I'm really enjoying it and I'm glad you are too. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=M6FI33JHwIo

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

 _Granny says you need to come here for Thanksgiving. No excuse._

Emma tossed her phone away, not wanting to see the response. Ever since Granny had insisted she text the Jones Brothers about coming over for the holiday dinner she'd been a ball of nerves. Having Killian over for Thanksgiving? Wasn't that what one did when they were in a relationship? When they were something special to each other? Sure she and Killian had started talking a bit more since that lunch on the pier but they weren't together. Sometimes she wondered if Killian thought of her as a friend or if she was just someone who kept showing up in his life that he put up with in case of an emergency.

Hence the fear of seeing the text message. The panic of rejection curled tightly in her chest, each second passing by another chance for her to picture Killian's answer. _Butt out. We don't need your charity. Why would I want supper with such a fucked up girl like you?_ Oh, Emma's mind was having a field day.

Her phone buzzed a few moments later against her mattress, Emma diving for it despite herself.

 _Who am I to argue with Liam's 'boss'?_

Well shit.

Emma was going to have Thanksgiving with the Jones Brothers.

Which was exactly why Emma was standing in the bathroom Thursday morning, attempting to curl her hair into some semblance of order and just getting frustrated. With each day that had passed since Killian agreed to come it had gotten harder and harder to pretend that he didn't mean anything to her. And that pissed her off. Because yes he was coming over but it's not like he returned the sentiment.

Emma cursed as she let down her last curl, wanting nothing more than to grab the hot end of the instrument and bow out of dinner from the injury. Instead she chucked the curler with more force than necessary into the sink, yanking the plug from the wall, before stalking from the room.

She pulled on the first thing she found hanging in her closet, a pair of skinny black jeans and a thin black turtleneck, being careful despite her anger not to ruin her curls as she pulled the shirt on. After she was dressed she checked the time.

1:00. The boys should be arriving any minute for their midday Thanksgiving Dinner. She slipped her feet into a pair of fur lined slide-ons before moving through the apartment to the stairs that led to the Diner.

Granny was using the industrial ovens to get ready for Thanksgiving Dinner so the smells of turkey and sage and mashed potatoes greeted her as she entered the back hallway of the Diner. Music played from the kitchen, just loud enough to be heard over the clang of plates and hum of the mixers.

Just as Emma got to the end of the hallway the bell above the door tinkled, revealing Liam and Killian. Emma had to bite back a smile seeing them. It looked like Killian had tried to clean them both up. Liam was well washed up, wearing a light blue button up that was several sizes too big and tucked into his jeans. His hair was combed and gelled back, shining a bit in the fluorescent light. Liam looked all the parts a proper gentleman.

But Killian. Killian looked sinful. Emma paused, just in the shadows, watching. Killian wore his black jeans and a black button up. The shirt was worn but it didn't make him look messy, just rugged. The black leather jacket and boots he'd always worn completed the outfit. His hair was wet, like he'd just showered, and hung over his forehead in a way that made Emma want to run her fingers through it. That man could easily be a model.

She shook her head before moving out of the hallway and into the Diner. Granny left the kitchen at the same time, raising her eyebrow when she noticed Emma moving out of the shadows.

"Oh, good. You're all here," she said, surveying the three of them. "Emma, why don't you take the boys upstairs to watch the Macy's Parade?" Granny shot her a look which meant she had no choice about taking them into her personal space, not that she knew they'd already been there. Emma shrugged and turned without saying anything, listening to the boys fall into step behind her. Emma could feel Granny's somewhat incredulous look on her back. It made Emma feel a bit guilty. She wasn't always difficult was she?

"You live above the Diner?" Liam asked, hurrying up beside Emma as she started to climb the stairs. Emma nodded, feeling a bit of relief that Liam didn't remember when he'd been there previously.

Emma let them both into the apartment. "I'm just going to go put my shoes in my room," Emma murmured before slipping away.

"Okay, come on Liam," Killian called. Emma watched them go, eyes lingering a bit too long on Killian's lean form before she hurried into her bedroom. It was so different having Killian in her space under the circumstance of a big dinner than when everyone was full of adrenaline and focused only on Liam and not on the space. This was her home and now Killian was in it, going to sit on her couch and watch the crappy old TV. That was a lot to process and Emma could feel her stress starting to act up again, feeding on her earlier guilt.

Emma moved into her bedroom, sliding the shoes from her feet. She pulled in a deep breath. In two minutes she'd be on the sofa with Killian, possibly next to him. Again, that was so different than when he'd sat next to her when she was stitching Liam's arm closed. Now neither were vibrating with fear and frustration. Now- _shit._ As if Emma wasn't already feeling on edge.

After stalling for a few more long second Emma left her room, pulling the door shut behind her. The murmur of the television was quiet, the voices of the brothers louder over it. As Emma moved closer, she could hear Killian's voice coming towards her in a frantic tone. Strange. Was he regretting coming over?

But Emma saw why when she entered the living room. Liam sat at the piano, his little feet swinging on the too tall bench. His fingers laid on the keys, like he was about to play a masterpiece. Emma froze at the doorway, hands starting to sweat.

"Emma!" he called when he saw her. "I didn't know you could play the piano." Emma shot a sharp glance at Killian who gave her an equally puzzled look, moving towards his brother. That information hadn't come from him. "Can you teach me to play Chopsticks? My music teacher plays that. I want to learn."

Emma's heart clawed upwards into her throat. Little Liam was looking at her expectantly with those big eyes as her insides melted to a shameful puddle of fear. Those eyes she could never say no to because he'd been hurt so many times before. But this time, this time she couldn't. She couldn't say yes. No matter how much a tiny part of her actually wanted to sit down and play the silly little song. Not when the bigger part of her wanted to slam down the wooden cover, hide the keys and then hide herself. But she couldn't do that either because Liam's hands were rubbing the ivory. So she did the only thing she could; she looked at Killian.

"Ask your brother."

With that Emma pushed through the living room and out the back door. She flopped down on the stairs a few down from the door and dropped her head into her lap. Feelings of failure flooded through her. She couldn't even sit down and play for Liam. If she couldn't play for Liam who could she play for?

The tears started then. She'd never be able to play again. As much as she hated the piano she didn't want to be without music for her entire life. Because in reality she didn't actually hate the piano. She hated what music had done to her family. Nothing in Emma's mind made sense. She was so fucked up.

The door opened behind her and Emma stiffened, trying to quell the gasps which would surely soon lead to hiccups. Heavy boots moved down beside her, coming to a stop just in front of her. Killian squatted down, balancing on his toes so he could see her face.

"Emma, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, forehead rubbing against her knee and messing up her curled hair. It frustrated her that she was sitting there sobbing because she'd fallen so far down this hole and yet she was still worried about what Killian thought of her. He was probably so mad she'd said no to his brother, the one he'd do anything for that he didn't care what she looked like at all.

"I'm sorry, love," he said quietly, shifting when Emma didn't lift her head so he sat down in front of her. She stiffened again at the term of endearment. Killian had only ever called her lass. Did he realize he'd changed it? He was supposed to hate her, not give nicer nicknames. "I tried to get Liam to move before you came out but you know how he can be. I should have moved faster."

"I'm the one who's so fucked she can't even play _Chopsticks_ for a seven year old."

"You're not fucked," Killian replied, the curse sounding strange in his lilting accent. "Emma, you need to find the right person to play for. And that person isn't my little brother. It's not your Granny. It's you."

Emma finally glanced up, rubbing her fist across her face to catch the tears. Her knees were wet from them and she knew she looked a mess. But Killian didn't blink, just watched her with a soft and worried look in his blue eyes. "I've tried. I've sat down at that bench countless times but all I do is end up slamming my fingers under the cover. I can't."

"Someday you're going to be ready. Someday your desire to play will be stronger than your compulsion to torture yourself. Someday, Emma, you're going to realize you're worth it."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll help you burn the piano." Emma drew in a short breath then because that statement was pretty close to Killian saying he'd be around for a while. In her life for a while. "Swan, I've only known you for a short little while but I see you. I know you're doing this because of your parents."

"I wasn't good enough to keep them here. I wasn't talented enough." There. Emma had said it. She'd admitted the truth that haunted her. The truth that kept her from the piano. It was easier to listen to people blame her parents and not her when she didn't play. Emma was terrified to sit down at the piano and realize her parents had been right all along.

"No. They weren't good enough for you," Killian answered forcefully, anger rising in his voice. Emma ducked her head, scared to see how mad she'd finally made him at her. To see how the truth had actually made him realize how worthless she was. It didn't matter that his words were nice. His tone was all Emma heard. But instead of yelling again, Killian nudged her knee. Emma glanced up, startling a bit at how close Killian had leaned. The smell of whatever body wash he'd used filled her nose, salty and fresh. Despite herself, Emma glanced down at Killian's lips, watching as his tongue darted out to moisten the bottom on. Emma's breath caught.

This was it. They were going to kiss. The realization hit her like an out of control train but she didn't want to get off the tracks. Everything that was building up was about to blow and by the way Killian was leaning closer it looked like he was also willing to be a casualty of the explosion.

The door above them flew open and Liam bounced through. Killian jumped backwards, nearly falling down the rest of the stairs with a curse. "Granny says dinner is ready. Come on." With that, as if he didn't just disrupt what was going to surely alter Emma's relationship with his brother, Liam disappeared back through the open door, calling over his shoulder to hurry up.

Killian cursed again and stood, brushing the dust from his jeans. He paused for a moment, looking down at Emma, pupils wide with a slight flush rising on his cheeks. If that was what he looked like- Emma didn't want to know what kind of mess she did. "You're worth fighting for Emma. I promise."

With a nod to himself, Killian stepped around her and through the door. Emma let out a long whistling breath, running her fingers under her eyes to pick up the tears that were starting to dry in a sticky mess with her foundation. This was not how she imagined her afternoon going. From having a complete breakdown, to admitting her deepest fear to nearly kissing Killian Jones. Emma needed to go back to bed before she did something really stupid.

But Granny would never stand for that so she picked herself up, fluffed her hair and moved into the apartment to take the stairs back down to the Diner. Killian was already sitting beside his brother at the large table, trying to convince Liam to put the napkin across his lap. He glanced up at Emma as she came in, giving her a shy little smile. She returned it, biting on the edge of her lip before moving to sit at the other side of the table.

Granny came out of the kitchen with the turkey, setting it down on the table that was already laden with food. In true Granny style she noticed Emma immediately, bending to her ear. "Are you alright?" she whispered as she sat down, sounding as if despite her love for the Jones boys she'd gladly introduce them to her crossbow.

Emma nodded, risking one more glance at Killian and unsurprisingly found him watching her as he adjusted his brother's chair. Seeing that, seeing him split his attention between her and his beloved brother, it hit her that she actually meant something to him. That she might be enough for him. Worth it for him. "Yeah. I'm okay."

And maybe for the first time she was starting to mean that.


	16. Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy-Tchaikovsk

_A/N:_ I'm so sorry this has taken me so long to write and get up. I planned to be back last Monday but life has been all over the place. I finished my undergraduate degree, moved home to my parents place for the summer (ugh) after leaving my first apartment for good which meant leaving all the people and connections I'd made are now not directly in my life, moved my stuff into my apartment in my grad school city and today I got my first real adult job in my field and not just some random one like before. So I've been all over the place but I'm glad I'm back. I'm really excited to be back writing and next chapter marks the final third/quarter of the story and let me tell you, it's about to get real. Thank you so much for your comments while I was gone, I hope you enjoy this chapter too! I so appreciate you all! Let me know what you think!

Song: watch?v=G-QAhsbQYmE&list=PL6F0B53B899A8EF69&index=13

Warning: This chapter mentions abuse and self-harm.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

 _Swan, will you do me a favour?_

Emma opened the text message, shifting onto her stomach so she could balance on her elbows and type.

 _What?_

Ever since Thanksgiving Killian had been freer with his conversations and attentions but nothing had gone beyond that. It was easier for Emma to draw a little smile from him, one of the ones that still spoke volumes about how unsure he was about himself, but Emma would take it. Killian was so unsure about so much that the fact that he now trusted Emma truly meant a lot to her. Which made the chance that she might mess it all up like most things she did all the more scary.

They didn't talk about the near kiss. They didn't try again either, not that they really had any time alone. The two of them were either at school, sharing the first two periods, where Killian was on edge and guarded, or with Liam at the Diner. When Killian was working he'd often leave Liam at the Diner if his father was still home and if he was free on Mondays Killian would show up while Liam was working and do homework in the far booth while Emma puttered around, serving customers. In public, Killian turned into the man he was when she first met him, not the Killian she knew now. Emma was getting antsy about the whole thing. She wanted another chance alone so she could see if the almost kiss was actually real or one of those things that just happen and then someone immediately regrets.

Sometimes Emma would catch Killian staring. Watching her as if she were something to behold. As if he wanted more. In those moments she'd let herself believe that the near kiss wasn't just a fluke but then someone would walk in that he didn't know, or a student would pretend to whisper something about him but really practically yell it, and it would be like Killian saw nothing but his own insecurities. Emma couldn't even be upset about it, not really. What else could she expect from the girl who hated herself and the boy who'd been punished until he thought he was worthless?

Maybe someday the time would be right to try again, but for now they were stuck in this awkward dance. And Emma had no idea what to do with it.

 _Would you help me Christmas shop? I need to find something for Lee._

Killian wanted her to go Christmas shopping with him? Wasn't that something couples did? Did Killian think they were together after their near kiss? Or was she just the only person he knew with a car? Emma was pretty sure it wasn't that, she was nearly certain that Killian wasn't using her and she actually meant something to him. But there was that part of her that was still the lost girl, still the girl who wasn't wanted that expected to be used and thrown away.

Emma was tired of that though. She wanted to go Christmas shopping with her (boy?)friend.

 _Sure. Monday after school?_

 _See you then._ Killian's response was fast. Had he been nervously staring at the screen like she so often did when he texted her? This dance they were doing was getting way too complicated for her rusty emotions.

Monday afternoon found Emma waiting at the counter, parka on, while she waited for Killian to show up with his brother. She'd spent the weekend trying to decide if she should get a gift for Killian. Would that make him feel awkward? She didn't want him to feel like he had to spend money on her when he had so many other expenses. But on the other hand she worried he would get nothing for Christmas because there was no one looking out for him.

But what did she even get him? Nothing big. Probably. They weren't together. Probably. So what did you get guy who was kind of a friend, maybe more, but no one wanted to say anything? Regina got Robin a watch and Mary Margaret made David some obnoxiously cute booklet of coupons. Emma and Killian weren't that though. For Killian maybe something practical would be best? Emma wished she'd seen his house, more clothing than his black boots and leather jacket. She didn't know what he needed, if his blankets were threadbare or if he had no matching socks anymore. She didn't know much about Killian. And what was sad was she was probably the most knowledgeable of Killian than everyone but his brother.

Granny leaned on the wall behind the counter, watching her. "You'd think you were trying to solve quantum physics," she drawled.

Emma didn't even look back. "I guess I don't have to tell you that I'm just thinking then?"

Granny laughed. "Just have a good day with Killian, okay? I'll take care of the little one."

Before Emma could answer the bell above the diner rang and Liam burst through. His cheeks were red, from the cold and excitement, and his eyes, those little blue spheres that had seen so much shone. Granny and Emma were giving Liam a set of baking supplies for Christmas, ingredients included since he'd learned to make cookies. Being able to cook for his brother made him so proud that the two women couldn't resist helping him with his endeavour.

"Hey Emma, Granny!"

"Hello Liam," Granny answered, motioning for Liam to hang up his coat on the rack. Liam did as bid, turning as his brother entered the diner at a much more sombre pace that the younger Jones had.

Killian bent in front of his brother, talking to him in hushed tones as he fixed Liam's shirt where it had become partially untucked. A final finger comb of Liam's hair and then Killian stood, turning to Emma.

"Ready, Swan?"

Emma nodded, soft smile on her face as there always was lately when she watched the brothers interact, and then came around the counter.

"Have fun, you two," Granny called. Emma could practically hear the smirk in her voice. Killian nodded, pretending to miss the obvious implications, and opened the door for Emma, allowing her to pass through in front of him. The light scent of his deodorant wafted towards her, familiar but curious. She was almost glad they would be in public because it would keep her from making a move without thinking it through. Or rather, it forced her not to be able to act on what she wanted.

"We'll go to the mall in the next town over, okay?" Emma asked as she started the Bug, shaking herself out of the thoughts that were quickly moving to whether she truly deserved happiness again. Emma had reached the point where she had finally decided she didn't deserve torture, or at least not always, but she wasn't ready to move to the happy end of the spectrum because that still meant music.

"That's fine."

"Do you know what you want?"

Emma glanced over as they pulled up to a stop sign, finding that Killian had been staring at her. Emma looked away quickly, jerking the car back to motion as she fought down the blush. Really, he had to be staring at her like she hung the moon after she asked that question?

Killian coughed, clearing his throat, seeming to feel the same about their eye contact. "He needs a new pair of boots."

Emma nodded. "There's a shoe store there that should have some."

They were quiet for a moment before Killian sighed. "That's a terrible Christmas gift for a child." The frustration and defeat in his voice was plain. "But I can't waste the money on Transformers or whatever his friends have. Not when power's due in two weeks."

Emma nodded, seeing no point in arguing. "Granny and I are giving him a baking set," Emma revealed, trying to make Killian feel better. Maybe he would be relieved, knowing that Liam would also be getting something he really wanted? "That will be fun for him."

"I can't be fun for him though. I can't be that awesome big brother for him."

"Killian," Emma said fiercely, stopping him from going on. "You are the best big brother that little boy could ever have. You've kept him alive. If that kid had had someone else as a sibling he would have ended up in the foster care system years ago. And yeah, maybe he would have found a good home where they bought him toys and sent him to private school. Or maybe he would have ended up in a home where the foster father drank too much and there was no big brother to step in and take the blows. So what if he gets boots for Christmas when the other kids get toys. He has what no one else does. _You._ " Emma ended her speech, sucking in air, only realizing then how strongly she'd spoken.

She chanced a glance over at Killian. He was looking at her, eyes carefully proud. She watched him give a little nod to himself, as if he were proud of himself. A level of wonder started to fill Emma. Killian had actually believed her. She hadn't been dismissed.

"I'm really glad we have you now, Swan." Emma gasped in a quick breath, looking away from Killian. Watching those honest blue eyes were just too much. "And I hope that you'll believe me someday."

"Maybe," Emma replied, trying to sound light as they pulled in the mall parking lot. She saw Killian shake his head out of the corner of her eye and Emma had to grin. They were such a mess.

Emma parked and got out, meeting Killian in front of the Bug. "Your brother will love whatever you get him, okay?"

"Okay, Swan. Whatever you say."

"I'll remember that statement."

Killian snorted, following Emma into the mall. "As you wish, Swan. As you wish."

They spent the next hour shopping through the mall. The first thing they did was locate a shoe store and find boots for Liam. Killian debated for a good half hour what would be the best pair, trying to decide which were the sturdiest but also which one would look like that the other students had. He'd ask Emma if she thought a boot was stylish and she'd try to offer her opinion but really, how much knowledge could she have on ten year old boy shoe styles. Eventually they decided on a pair of slip on brown and red pair with curly faux laces.

After that they separated for a half hour. Killian said he needed to pick up some sort of part for the kitchen sink that Emma didn't really understand the purpose off, while Emma claimed to need to get a gift for Granny. In reality this bought her some time to wander around and try to find something for Killian.

She still didn't really know what to get him. Did she go the practical route and get him socks or new basic t-shirts since his were often just a bit too worn to be presentable? Or did she get him something that was fun? But what was fun to Killian? Most of the time he was just trying to make it through the day.

Her wanderings took her into a sport store. Guys liked sports, right? Not that she'd ever heard Killian talk about anything that involved athletics but maybe she'd find something or get inspired? She walked around the store periphery, through the hockey section full of parents buying skates for their children, into the shoe section, again full of people searching for Christmas gifts, into the miscellaneous section full of things left over from summer.

Part of Emma wondered what her parents would have gotten her for Christmas if they were still around. Would they always get her something to do with music since she would probably still be playing if they were around? Or would they always just get her a card with money in it like they'd do when she was a child if they were on contract and too busy to go out and buy her a gift? Emma pushed her nails into the palm of her hand, shocking herself with the sharp pain and bringing her back to the present and her surroundings of deflated basketballs and golf shoes.

Tucked into the back of an aisle was the fishing section. Liam's words came to her then. _We like the water._ Fish lived in the water and was definitely something fun the brothers could do together. Emma would bet that they loved fishing. On the bottom of the shelves she found a kit of fancy hooks. There were ten different ones with jigs of different shining metals. She grabbed a couple other things that looked like they may be needed to retrofit the fishing rods Killian and Liam probably already had, or could borrow from someone on the pier where Killian worked. Very pleased with herself she took them to the checkout and went to meet the person who she really hoped would like her newest purchase.

Killian was already waiting for her in front of the shoe store. From afar he looked the picture of brooding, tucked into himself against the wall. His head was down as he used his thumb to scroll through his phone but Emma could tell he was paying attention to everyone around him by the subtle shifts in his body every time someone walked by.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he looked up and locked eyes with her when she got five feet away. She gave him a little entertained smile and he raised his brow in return. "Got what you need?" he asked, pushing off from the wall and slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Emma nodded. "Yeah, let's hit the road. Liam will be done with Granny soon."

The drive back to Storybrooke was much less tense, conversation revolving around Liam and what he would be baking with Granny. It was nice to just drive and have a regular conversation, not one where the insecurities broke through. It reminded Emma of how young they both were, how much they had ahead of them when what they'd gone through was scraped back for a few calm minutes.

When they got to the Diner, Liam was finished with his baking and met them at the car carrying two takeout containers and proclaiming he'd learned to make carrot cake and did you know you can make sweets with vegetables? That made Emma laugh and nod, telling him that it was a really tasty cake. Killian left with Liam shortly after that, promising to come back and get the boots out of the trunk later when he was alone.

When Emma went back to the car that evening to lock her car since Killian had arrived an hour before to get the boots (and the gifts for himself and Liam from Emma and Granny that she'd wrapped and left) she noticed a small gift bag on the driver's seat. Emma opened the door and slipped into her car, picking up the bag covered in pictures of holly and silver bells. A card was tucked into the top, her name written in elegant script across the front.

Even though it wasn't Christmas for four more days, Killian obviously meant her to get the Christmas gift the next time she went to the car. Emma figured that meant it was probably okay for her to open the bag.

Emma slit open the envelope with her car key and pulled out the card. On the front was a generic picture of a Santa and the inside was blank of standard type, but scribbled over by Killian.

 _Swan,_

 _I know your last name is a reminder that holds you back. I hope this Swan reminds you to spread your wings._

 _Merry Christmas,_

 _Killian and Liam_

She chewed on her lip, biting back the emotion she felt. Killian always had a way of getting to her. She was almost scared to look inside, but was infinitely glad she'd written a little note inside the card she'd given him about taking time to have make memories with Liam.

Emma pulled out the little tuft of green tissue paper before reaching into the bag. Curled in the very bottom was a little silver necklace. Emma pulled it out, holding the chain in front of her. Hanging on the chain was a light little charm, feeling like it was made from aluminum. The charm was circular, looking like an old wax stamp and set into the metal was the image of a swan, looking like it was ready to take flight. It was beautiful in it's simplicity and meaning.

Emma slipped the chain over her head, fingering the charm. _I hope this Swan reminds you to spread your wings._ She hoped so too.


	17. Footprints in the Snow - Debussy

_A/N:_ I hope you're ready for entering the last third of the story! Things are about to get a lot more intense but I'm really excited about it! I've already started the next chapter which is giving me a bit of a problem but I aim to have it up for Thursday. Thanks so much for all your support! We passed 100 reviews on this with the next chapter! Also, I'm thinking a sequel may be going to happen if you guys are interested! Maybe we could meet and explore some characters that you've heard about but not met yet? What do you think? Let me know! Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=dZ8qhfS5o10

Warning: This chapter mentions abuse and self-harm.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Winter found Storybrooke covered in ice at a standstill. Three feet of snow blanketed the ground in most places, weighing everything down. The frigid air made it nearly impossible to breathe outside and inside was a cage of recycled air and dry heat. Any tourists wanting to experience a classic New England town for the holidays had long since left, allowing the townspeople to stop gossiping about the foreigners and once again turn their sights on those they found lacking within their own ranks. Including Emma. Emma felt more stifled than usual, often pacing through the Diner or apartment on the frequent snow days, unable to sit still. It didn't help that because Killian didn't have a car and hers wasn't exactly trustworthy in bad weather she rarely saw him anymore. Most of the time on weekends he was snowed in on Albatross Lane, one of the last to be plowed roads in town, and was taking only three courses at school so he could work more hours.

It wasn't that Emma never talked to him but she felt like she needed him more now. With the end of the school year fast approaching people were all over her to make a decision about her education and career. They wanted to know where she would be going, what she would be doing and Emma had no answer. The way she felt like a caged animal was making her desperately want to escape Storybrooke but she couldn't, she had nowhere to go, no skill she was particularly good at to capitalize on. Except music but she was still pretty certain she was going to take Killian up on his offer to burn the instrument. Killian was the only one she felt understood- felt his own sort of stifled but she couldn't really talk about it over text and his place was out of the question.

So instead Emma did what she did best. She retreated into herself. She kept quiet and to the back of classrooms. She scowled and grumbled, trying to get people to remember what a fuck up she was that they'd leave her alone. Why did everyone but Killian seem to care what she was doing in the future anyways? Why did they care that she was throwing away her potential? It was her talent to do what she wanted with. Even Regina and Mary Margaret had decided that trying to convince her of a future outside of waitressing at Granny's Diner and punishing herself was futile.

With all the stress and upset and anger Emma slowly began to fall back into self-harm habits. Fingers that over Christmas had been clear of visible injury were starting to bruise, hangnails were ripped too far and too harshly, leaving messy and bloody nailbeds. Emma saw it all and it made her both relieved and angry. Angry because she had come so far. Even the tiniest of steps forward before had felt like she was climbing mountains, and now, now those success felt like molehills. She knew if Killian saw he'd be disappointed in her, want better for her. Not seeing Killian regularly made it easier. She didn't want Killian to think he needed to save her because Emma knew no one could help her get over this but herself. That was too much responsibility to put on one person when it was Emma's responsibility but Killian did make it easier. With him it was easier to see that she could have a future, that people could care for her when they'd never heard her music, when they'd never witnessed what she'd heard some call her only redeeming quality. Maybe it was but with Killian it seemed easier to believe that maybe she could find other qualities.

But despite the anger and disappointment at herself because of her habits, the relapse was also a relief. Because the urge that had been building since Thanksgiving, the one that on Christmas even had nearly boiled over with the desire to play Bach's Christmas Oratorio, was becoming too strong to resist. Emma was tired of fighting it without having the physical injury crutch to rely on. Maybe she was giving up too soon but she was just too tired of it all.

By the end of January she was just exhausted. Exhausted of fighting her demons again. Exhausted of being alone and isolated in this stupid little nosy town. Exhausted of going nowhere yet constantly wanting to run. She hadn't seen Killian all week because of a blizzard that blew in on Monday and shut everything down until Wednesday and Thursday was Killian's work day and it was starting to get to her. She missed the shaggy black hair that was getting far too long and the bright blue eyes that flashed with something other than caution for only her and his little brother. Emma couldn't hold back the small flash of excitement she felt when she got up Friday morning and saw the sun glinting off the ice. The roads had all been plowed and school was on which meant she would have morning history class with Killian.

Emma would have been lying if she said she didn't put a little extra mascara on that morning or check her teeth in her rear-view mirror for bagel twice before going into school despite knowing full well she'd already brushed. But she and Killian still hadn't moved forward and Emma didn't want him to think she wasn't worth taking the next step. She was already starting to let herself believe that Thanksgiving was a fluke. In the back of Emma's mind the insecurity whispered, telling her that her looks were all she had going for her, if she wanted Killian to like her as she liked him.

As Emma was going into the school her phone rang with a text. She fished it out of her back pocket, pulling it out and yanking a glove off with her teeth. A text from Killian flashed up.

 _I can't come in today._

A shiver flashed through Emma, and one that wasn't from the cold. This type of text weren't exactly rare and Emma knew exactly what that meant. Killian had some sort of visible injury. The last time Emma had gotten that type of text it had been right after New Year's Eve and Killian had been going to take Liam to the Diner. His father had had a bit too much at his staff party and come home to find Liam's boots out of place, tripping over them. Emma wasn't sure much of what happened except that Brennan had ripped Liam out of bed and once again Killian had intervened.

 _You okay?_ Emma answered, chewing on her lip.

 _Papa lost his job two days ago. Mixing cleaning chemicals doesn't go well when drunk._ Emma cursed as she slipped into her seat in the classroom. Shit. How was Killian's pay going to cover everything now? At least what Brennan earned paid for his booze and the heat. Killian would have to take another job if Brennan couldn't.

 _Do you need anything?_ Emma could just imagine how angry Brennan had been when he'd got his pink slip. Killian's answer would gauge how abusive Brennan had actually become. Usually he said he was fine, that he could handle it on his own.

 _Can you bring me Polysporin at lunch?_

 _Yeah, okay._ That wasn't good. Antiseptic cream meant open wounds. Usually Killian stayed home if he had bruises. The last open wound she'd witnessed was Liam's arm that she'd stitched up. Had Brennan thrown things? It made Emma so angry. No one deserved what Brennan put his boys through. But Emma couldn't report them because she knew how much it meant for Killian too keep Liam with him, his determination almost feeling like he was trying to make up for something with his family in Europe. The countdown was on though, two and a half more months. Emma just had to hope things would stay calm until then.

Emma was antsy all morning. She just wanted to get out of the school and bring Killian his Polysporin. She nearly punched some idiot in her biology class named Greg Mendel who made a comment about Killian constantly missing school, implying he was a druggy or some sort of flunky. Thankfully Regina had been with her, ripping her away from the early balding toad and down the hall to their next class, promising Emma she'd hit Greg with her car or steal his pants during gym later.

The ringing of the lunch bell found Emma frantically shoving all her belongings into her bag. She hadn't heard from Killian since her arrival at school which made her both anxious but also slightly hopeful, especially if Brennan was still at home with him. No news was good news, right?

Emma was the first out of the classroom, car keys in her hand. She'd been formulating her battle plan for the last twenty minutes. She was going to grab Polysporin and a little first aid kit before stopping at Granny's and grabbing food for Killian's lunch and supper for both brothers.

"Emma Swan!" A voice called out, causing Emma to skid to a stop, students grumbling as they tripped around her.

Emma turned, chewing on her cheek to stop from telling whoever was after her to take a long walk off a short pier. Miss Blue, the guidance counsellor stood, hands on her slender hips, red curls pulled severely off her face and into a bun that made her look older and more intimidating.

"Yes?" Emma asked, trying not to tap her foot in agitation. She had places to be and a man to check on.

"I need you to come with me Miss Swan."

"Why? I have to go run an errand. It's really important."

Miss Blue raised an unsympathetic eyebrow. Oh, how Emma missed Killian's dancing eyebrows. Miss Blue didn't seem entertaining when she did it, she just seemed shady.

"I'm sorry, Miss Swan," she answered, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "You've been labeled as a student of concern. You need to come have a mandatory meeting with me to decide if you should be followed up with."

Student of concern? Seriously? Why couldn't people just leave her alone? Why did everyone feel so determined to pressure her into making decisions?

"I'm not a student of concern," Emma argued, fingernails biting into her palms.

"I'll decide that. Now come along or do I need to get the principal?"

They stood for a few long moments, staring each other down. Miss Blue wasn't going to break. Emma didn't want to but she didn't want to make things worse either. If she got in trouble she'd probably get detention and not be able to reach Killian after school either.

"Fine," Emma gritted out, waving Blue ahead of her and rolling her eyes when the tiny woman had her back to her.

Emma pulled out her phone. _I'm sorry, I can't come right now. They've labeled me as a student of concern. I have to have a meeting now and try to explain why I haven't applied to any colleges or the school's scholarships. I'll bring you your stuff and supper after school._

Killian's response was quick. _They don't know anything about you. Don't let them get to you, love. I'll see you later._

Emma flopped down into the chair in Blue's office, jaw set tight. Blue floated around the desk, settling in her own as she pulled out some papers.

"So how have you been, Emma?" Blue asked.

Emma shrugged. "Better than you seem to think I am."

"Now Emma, let's not play this game. The school cares about you and wants to make sure you're okay."

"The school is just nosy," Emma grumbled. "Why do you even care what I do with my life?"

Blue stared at her hard before sighing, as if she decided to actually cut the crap. "Storybrooke has an image to uphold. Do you really think we want an ex prodigy living in the back of her garish car forever?" Blue sat back, crossing her arms and letting the words sink in.

It felt like someone had kicked the wind out of her. Was that what they thought she'd become? Emma had been right. They didn't care about her. They only cared about messing up their idyllic tourist town. But what galled Emma the most was that they thought she'd be jobless and homeless. Did they think Granny was going to throw her out as soon as she graduated? Emma had already hit eighteen and still lived with the older lady.

The words triggered those deepest fears Emma had always battled. Maybe she would be thrown to the streets once she graduated. Maybe Emma was worthless? She really didn't have much of a plan other than staying with Granny. If Granny pulled out of her life Emma would have nowhere to go. She wasn't going to any form of secondary education, no one else in the town would hire Emma the leper. If Granny got rid of her she was absolutely screwed. She would have nothing in the world. Emma gnawed on her chew, pushing her fingers until they nearly dislocated to try and keep the tears at bay. She couldn't let herself break. She needed to get angry. Hell, Emma was always angry, what was one more day being mad at the world?

"You're a beautiful pianist, Emma," Blue started. Emma rolled her eyes, past trying to seem complacent in this meeting. "Why waste your life with this petty little refusal to play. Do you know how much glory you could bring everyone by pursuing your talents? Not just the school which would get more funding. Not just the town. But you're Granny. Don't you want to repay her for everything she's done for you?"

"You think I'm being petty?" Emma growled. "Seriously? Aren't you supposed to be a counsellor and trained in actually being a human? Don't you understand what my story is? It isn't some fairy tale like yours. My parents didn't want to be parents any more so they handed me over to someone they barely knew for two weeks and then stayed away for good. Barely called and whenever they did it was only about my music. Four years later I get the call that they've renounced their guardianship. They're over in Europe playing for orchestras. They valued music over me. So don't you dare tell me I'm being petty you evil little fairy." Emma pushed herself up and stormed out of the room.

Let them suspend her for yelling and insulting. Let them call her a student of concern. Let them expell her. It wasn't like they expected her to do anything with her life anyway. They could go fuck themselves.

Emma sprinted out of the school and across the parking lot. She was beyond tears. Just taking awful gasping breaths as she ran. She doubled over as she reached her car, hanging onto the handle as she tried to get past the pain in her chest. She was nothing. Even the school thought she was nothing.

But there was one person who truly looked at her like she was something. At least she could help him.

Emma yanked open the car door and got in, speeding to the drugstore. When she rolled past the police station she didn't even have to slow down, all the cops strangely away from the small station- probably for the end of month ticket rush. She collected the first aid supplies before deciding she'd order the boys a pizza instead of going to Granny's to get the food; she needed to see Killian now.

Emma's whole body vibrated, her fingers aching from where she pulled on them during the meeting. How _dare_ they do this to her. How _dare_ they bring to light and confirm all her deepest fears? Emma needed someone to convince her that she was worth it. That she was worth staying around, putting people through the agony of dealing with. She desperately needed someone to convince her that she wouldn't end up on the street, hated by everyone because she wouldn't play piano.

When Emma reached Albatross Lane she slowed down, a heavy feeling growing in her stomach. Her hands started to sweat and her heart sped. Something was wrong. There were car tracks in front of Killian's place, on both the driveway and the lawn. Too many sets of footsteps crossed the space, especially considering only Brennan and the brothers lived there. Instead of stopping at the end of the street Emma drove all the way to the house, pulling in.

She jumped out, stopping in her tracks when she noticed the trail of red across the snow. Blood. _Fuck._ Killian's earlier text ran through her mind. Brennan had been violent. What if things had escalated since the morning? What if the car tracks were-

"Killian?" Emma shouted, running towards the door. She pounded on the thin wood. She'd break the door down if she had to, to get to Killian and Liam if they were in there. _"Killian!"_

"Emma?" A quiet lilting voice came from the side of the house. Emma turned, watching Killian limp around the side of the house, face bloody and red, eye swollen shut. Older bruises covered the side of his jaw and there was a gash through his lip and above his eye.

 _"Killian!"_ Emma ran at him, reaching for his broken body. She was forced to come up short when Killian fell to the ground in front of her, knees hitting the crunching, bloodstained snow. It was then that she realized he was sobbing. And shaking, lips blue from the cold.

"They took him, Emma. They took him," he repeated, a haunting mantra that screamed of self-loathing and despair.

"Who?" she asked, filled with foreboding, dropping down in front of him.

 _"Liam."_


	18. How to Save a Life - The Fray

_A/N:_ All your support on the last chapter was incredible! Thank you so much! Enjoy this one! And just so you know, the next chapter is going to see another major step forward for Emma, perhaps the biggest one yet! Let me know what you think!

Song: watch?v=Dddrq61sq4U (add /)

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

 _"Liam."_

The word hit her like a baseball bat to the stomach. Liam. Emma didn't even have to ask who took him. It was obvious by the broken man standing in front of her. Child protection had finally come.

"How?" Emma asked, pulling her coat off and hanging it around Killian's shoulders. She did up the buttons, trembling and aching fingers fighting to get the plastic disks through the holes.

"Papa- he got angry when he woke up because Lee was making noise and he was hungover. I kept Lee home because he's so bad at keeping secrets about this and we had a rough night. Papa went after Lee. I took the blows," Killian gasped a breath, his hold over his emotions a tenuous one. "It was bad. Never this violent. Lee got scared and took off, went and found my phone and called 911 before I could stop him. The cops showed up and pulled Papa off me. Took him. Child Protection took Liam. I put up too much of a fight trying to get to him out here that they left me because I'm so close to being of age." Killian slumped forward, falling into the snow on his side. "They took Liam. He's in the system now. They're going to come back for me, I guess."

Emma's mind was racing. Liam would enter the foster care system, get placed potentially miles from Storybrooke and Killian, the one person who had devoted his entire life to caring for the child, may not see him again. Liam may never see his brother again. And here Killian was, that tough, determined man, laying shaking in the snow, lost. Seeing that, seeing the absolute loss Killian was facing made her earlier emotions and fear fall away.

"Get up," she demanded sharply. Killian glanced up at her in a mix of disbelief and annoyance, as if he just wanted to lay in the snowbank and freeze to death and expected Emma to let him. Well Killian was dead wrong. "Get up, Killian. I know where we can go." With that Emma reached down, not waiting for an answer, grabbing the back of Killian's coat with hands that didn't want to grip and heaved him up and towards the car.

In the car Emma cranked the heat, pushing all the vents in Killian's direction. She backed out of the driveway then pulled out of her phone, dialing as she drove.

Granny picked up on the second ring.

"Granny's Dinner. How may I help you?"

"Granny, its Emma. I need your help. This is an emergency."

"Emma, what's happening?" Granny's voice took on a tone of urgency. Emma could practically hear her analyzing Emma's voice for a clue as to what was wrong.

"Meet me at the apartment in five. I've got Killian. Once you see him," Emma glanced over, eyes flicking over the bruising blooming down the side of his face, "you'll understand why I need you." Emma hung up and switched gears, kicking up the speed as she went down Albatross lane.

"I'm sorry you got pulled into this," Killian whispered, leaning his head against the window.

"Shh, Killian. Not now." Hearing Killian's voice was ripping her apart and she needed to keep it together. Emma might be determined but she was still just holding on by a thread.

They drove in silence the rest of the way, the only noise the chattering of Killian's teeth and the whirr of the heater fans. Emma pulled into the back of the Diner by the back apartment stairs, shutting down the car and getting out. Granny was waiting on the top of the stairs, hands on her hips, tension radiating off her. Emma had half expected her to be waiting around with a crossbow to takedown whoever was troubling Emma.

Killian stumbled when he got out of the car and Emma ran to him but he wouldn't let her help. Instead he straightened his back, proud even in his state, and climbed the stairs. When they got closer Granny cursed, taking in all the blood and bruises. She glanced at Emma over Killian's shoulder and Emma just closed her eyes, hoping that could convey what words couldn't.

"Come on, son. Let's get you inside and this figured out." Granny opened the apartment door and led the way in, over to the couch. "Emma, get the boy some water."

Emma turned on her heel and strode back into the kitchen to pour Killian a large glass of water and set the kettle on for tea. In the living room she could hear Granny fuss, urging Killian to take off his coat, get under the blanket, checking the bruises and blood. Emma waited in the kitchen with the water as Killian started to tell the story of what happened, not wanting to interrupt. Killian was trying so hard to keep his voice in check that Emma couldn't interrupt or give him more of an audience. She'd already heard the story once, she didn't think she could hear it again.

When all was quiet except for Granny's tutting Emma entered the living room. Killian's eyes were immediately on her, head poking out from the blanket wrapping him like a burrito. Emma sat on the coffee table beside Granny and facing Killian before handing over the glass.

Killian's eyes were rimmed red and so swollen that it looked like he'd been stung by bees. He'd quieted though, face blank and pale. It almost looked like he'd gone into shock. Emma wouldn't have been surprised.

"So what's the plan?" Emma asked, turning to Granny.

Before Granny could talk Killian cut in, "I'll go home and wait for them to come. Thank you for the water."

"Nonsense," Granny said, standing, hands going to her hips.

"I can't trouble you anymore. You never should have been brought into this in the first place."

Granny rolled her eyes at Killian's arguing. "You'll stop fighting this help, son. What did I tell you about arguing with old ladies?"

Killian bowed his head. "Not to," he answered quietly.

"Good boy." Granny nodded approvingly before taking the empty water glass from Killian's still shaking hand. "This is the plan. Emma, take Killian to the bathroom and clean him up. He can't walk around looking like he's danced with a meat grinder." Killian winced at the blunt words but a tiny upwards quirk of his lips was visible. "While that happens I'm going to make some calls, find out what's going on with your brother and when you get back I'll have macaroni for you for supper. You're far too thin Killian so I hope you're hungry."

"Yes ma'am," Killian answered, glancing quickly at Emma before staring at his lap again. Emma looked over at Granny who shook her head sadly. This was a mess. Emma just had to hope that Granny, the one woman in her life who'd always seemed to know what to do, would know how to fix this now.

Emma stood, gesturing for Killian to follow. She tried to steel her expression as she walked to the bathroom, scared to give Killian any reason to doubt Granny's capability at fixing this mess. It had to be Granny because Emma knew she'd be pretty much useless to do anything for Killian.

When she got into the bathroom she turned on the tap, warming the water and then dug out the first aid kit. Killian hesitated at the door, leaning against the doorframe. Emma turned back to him. Suddenly she realized how small the bathroom was.

"Come here," she whispered, her own voice hoarse.

Killian took a deep breath then came closer, settling on the toilet seat with a huge sigh. Emma wet a face cloth and squatted down in front of him.

"This may hurt," Emma warned, tapping the warm cloth against the cuts on his face, wiping away the blood. Killian didn't even flinch.

"I don't think anything can hurt now."

Emma swallowed heavily. "Sometimes numb is a blessing."

Killian winced as she ran the cloth over his cheek, pressing harder in order to clean up the last of the blood streaks. When she slowed, Killian leaned into her hand, pressing against it. Emma froze, eyes locking with Killian's. Her arm felt like it was cemented to his face.

"Emma," Killian whispered, leaning forward. "How could I do this without you?"

Emma didn't know what to say other than to move forward too. That niggling thought came back into her mind that this was it. They were finally going to try again.

"Emma!" Granny shouted, cutting through the silence, footsteps moving towards the bathroom. "Tell me why I just got a call about you being suspended?"

"Fuck," Emma cursed, falling back onto her behind, leaving Killian leaning awkwardly towards her. Killian's eyes widened in confusion and Emma groaned.

"Explanation?" Granny asked, coming into the bathroom and crowding the small space.

"I called Blue an evil little fairy after she told me I was going to end up homeless and living in the back of my car because I'm so fucking hopeless and bringing a bad name to the town. Implied you're going to kick me out the minute I graduate." Emma glanced down at her lap, hearing Killian's soft intake of breath.

Granny growled but Emma couldn't look at her, couldn't see the truth she'd just revealed confirmed. "That little troll. I'll have her job for that."

"It's the truth," Emma murmured with a shrug. "No point complaining. How long am I out for?"

Granny didn't answer, just turned around and marched back into the kitchen where the phone was. "Killian, Emma, stay in here. Emma take a look at that ankle he's limping on then find him a change of clothes. I'm sure one of Ruby's old friends left something in her room. I'm going to want some privacy for all the calls I'm about to make."

Killian straightened himself up, watching Emma with soft and concerned eyes. It made her fill with guilt. Here was Killian, who'd lost his driving purpose in life and he was worried about Emma's life. At least Killian's mess might be salvageable.

Emma picked up the cloth again, kicking the door closed with her foot and motioning for Killian to hold out his hand. There were cuts across the knuckles from punching something, or someone. Most likely someone. They weren't deep, more like a gravel rash so Emma picked at the cuts carefully, blowing on them slightly to get a few pieces of dirt out. Killian didn't flinch until Emma did that, Emma flinching back as if she had shot him and not just made him uncomfortable.

The tension inside Emma rivaled the tension within the bathroom, so Emma, desperate to relieve it, blurted: "You never told me how you lost the hand." When she realized what she said she stood abruptly, turning away under the guise of rinsing out the cloth, cringing into the sink.

"It's okay, Emma," Killian reassured.

"You don't have to answer that."

"I will if you look at me." Emma stilled, water running over her hands. "I haven't talked about this to anyone other than my family and doctors in years. Let me tell you."

Emma sighed before shutting off the tap and tossing the cloth in the sink. "Okay. But first, take off your boot so I can see that ankle."

Emma moved back to her spot on the floor, watching Killian's face as he was preoccupied with his foot. He looked better now that he wasn't bloody but the bruises were jarring to see. One of his lovely blue eyes were swollen shut, red and shiny. It would be bruised by the morning. An older purple splotch, likely from the previous night, bloomed along his jaw, made more visible as his muscles ticked while he tried not to show how much taking off his boot hurt.

Killian finally got the boot off, tossing it to the side and holding his foot up. Emma reached forward shakily, pushing the leg of his damp jeans back. She'd touched Killian before but never this often.

"I was nine when I lost my hand."

Emma paused her work in rolling up the pants when he started to speak. That was so young. Killian would have newly arrived in America, perhaps had met Liam's mother, and dealing with a drunk but otherwise not really abusive father. All alone. All on top of the loss of his hand. Her heart broke for the millionth time.

"I lost it in a car accident." Emma finally glanced up at Killian, watching him chew on his lip. "And I know what you're thinking, but it actually wasn't anyone's fault. Except mine. I was young and stupid, in a new country where you all drive on the opposite side of the road. I thought I'd seen someone I knew, someone I missed and ran into the street. Forgot I had to look the opposite way as I was used to and didn't see the car coming. It hit me and my hand got caught under the wheel. I'm lucky I didn't die."

"I'm sorry," Emma croaked out, finally going back to his foot because she wasn't sure what else to do. The side of his foot was swollen and a little bruised, looking like it had been rolled, or maybe stepped on. Emma reached up into the first aid kit and grabbed the instant ice pack, breaking it over her knee and wrapping it in a dry cloth.

"It was a long time ago. I don't notice it much anymore."

"We both know that's a lie," Emma answered, placing the icepack against the bruising. She could clearly remember the way Killian would try to hide the stump in his sleeve, or how upset people saying thing about his injury would make him.

"Most people accept that answer happily." There was a tinge of wonder to his voice, as if he couldn't believe Emma paid that much attention to him.

"Most people must not know you then."

Before Killian could answer Granny's yelling pierced through the apartment. It was obvious she was now talking to the school. Emma pushed herself back from Killian, leaning against the tub and closing her eyes. Granny was making too much of a big deal about the school. Everything they said was pretty much true anyways.

"You know the school knows jack shit," Killian said, shifting so the icepack balanced itself on his foot.

"I don't know, seems pretty reasonable to me," Emma answered. "My parents thought I wasn't worth staying around, wouldn't make them enough glory. The school believes the same thing."

"Well both are wrong, Emma. You're a whole lot more than you give yourself credit for."

Emma had no answer to that, couldn't bring herself to argue with Killian when he sounded so sure of himself. Instead she just kept her eyes closed and waited for Granny's yelling to stop.

About ten minutes of later silence fell over the apartment. A few moments after that footsteps sounded as Granny approached the bathroom. She opened the door and Killian stood immediately, cringing at the weight on his foot.

"Come on, let's go talk this over."

Despite his injuries Killian practically ran out of the bathroom. With a sigh Emma followed, seating herself at the opposite end of the couch as Killian while Granny stood in front of them.

"Emma," she started, hands on her hips, "you're still suspended but they're going to launch an investigation of Blue's actions and it won't go on your permanent record." Emma shrugged. Wasn't like she was going anywhere that she'd need her record to look good for anyways, but she tried to look at least a little appreciative of Granny's attempts. It wasn't that she wasn't thankful, it was just that Emma felt so guilty that Granny was wasting her time on her.

"And you, Killian." Killian straightened in his seat, listening intently. "So there isn't much we can do tonight. Your father's in jail being held on charges of child abuse and neglect as well as aggravated assault. You'll be questioned on Monday about all that bastard put you through. Also, thankfully I could pull some strings and now I know who has Liam and she's a lovely lady in the next town over who will take good care of your brother. Since it's Friday our hands are pretty much tied until Monday. I've managed to convince Child Protection to let me be your foster parent for now. It isn't permanent because I don't have enough room to legally take Liam too until you hit eighteen but we can talk about permanent solutions tomorrow. For now I want you to rest and heal and remember: Liam's very safe right now and hopefully you can see him Monday."

Killian sagged, maybe out of relief, maybe of defeat, Emma couldn't really tell. But Granny had really gotten them the best possible solution to the problem, at least for this weekend. "Thank you," Killian murmured, sounding completely genuine. Maybe he also realized that Granny had done everything she could to help the issue for now. "Thank you."

Granny gave him a tender smile before turning brisk again. "Emma, go get that change of clothes and show Killian Ruby's room where he'll be sleeping. I'm going to make supper."

The rest of the evening passed by fairly quietly. Granny wasn't satisfied until Killian had eaten three plates of mac and cheese, two glasses of milk and then was settled in front of the TV with a mug of hot cocoa and cinnamon. His face had been a mixture of overwhelmed and amazed at being treated like that. It hit Emma as she watched Granny insist he put his foot up on a pillow that he hadn't had anything like that since his own mother had died since Liam's own mother sounded pretty non-mothering. It also made Emma realize how stupid lucky she'd been that her shitty parents had decided that of all the near strangers they could have left her with they'd chosen Granny.

Emma had gone to bed early, following Killian after he excused himself around nine. After all the adrenaline and emotions of the day Emma was wiped, falling asleep pretty much as soon as her head hit the pillow. She didn't stay asleep though. A series of noises, out of place for the apartment's regular nighttime noises woke her around eleven.

Emma pushed herself out of bed, shuffling to her door as she tried to place the whimpering noise. She glanced right out the doorway, noticing light coming from under the door to Ruby's old room and then it clicked. Killian was the one making the strangled whimpers.

Emma's feet moved before she could consider how Killian would feel about her interrupting. She reached out and tentatively knocked on the door.

"Killian?" Before Killian could answer she opened the door a crack and peered in, driven by this strong desire to make him feel better. Killian sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side as he gripped a pillow in his hands, face a mask of pain stronger than Emma had seen since she pulled him out of the snow earlier.

"Oh, Killian," she whispered, slipping into the room.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Killian answered, trying to compose himself and failing.

Emma just shook her head, coming closer, heart breaking. "You shouldn't be alone when you feel like this. Want to talk?"

Killian was quiet for a moment before sending a pointed glance to the spot beside him. Emma understood and moved to sit next to him, both facing forward.

"I lost the one person I had." Emma glanced over at the sound of his utter devastation. "I put up with years of abuse for Liam and now he's gone. And I've got no one. But at the same time I feel so lucky to be here tonight with you and your Granny because I've not had someone to look after me since I was seven," Killian continued, confirming Emma's earlier beliefs.

"You don't have no one," Emma answered after a minute, feeling this growing urge to be honest with him. "You have me. And you have for a long time." Killian looked over at her, checking for honesty, before gasping out a sob.

And then Emma did something that shocked them both. She reached over and put her arms around Killian, enveloping him in the first hug she'd given without coercion since her parents abandoned her. Killian stilled, realizing this too and started to pull away but Emma held tight. She didn't do this because she had to. She didn't do this because she didn't know what else to do. She did this because she actually wanted to and now that she'd done it she didn't want to let Killian go. Ever if possible.

Killian drew in a shaky breath then started to cry in earnest, folding himself down onto the pillow he'd been holding. Emma leaned with him, letting him rest against her, never loosening her grip. Somewhere after the first twenty minutes of Killian's crying Emma started to hum; Brahms's _Lullaby_ , Liszt's _Berceuse_ , Bing Crosby's version of _Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ral_ , anything she could think of to soothe Killian. It seemed to work because about fifteen minutes into Emma's exploration into her memorized musical library Killian quieted, leaning back slowly so Emma wouldn't release her hold and laid down. Emma shifted somewhat awkwardly to stay behind him, tucking her legs up against Killian's warm body.

"Don't stop singing?" he asked quietly, voice rough.

Emma nodded against him, breathing in the smell of him. It was as if now that she'd finally allowed herself to touch she never wanted to let go, wanted to have every inch of her body against Killian. Emma took a deep breath and started humming _How to Save a Life_ by the Fray, a song she'd always loved. They were both asleep before the final chorus.


	19. Wake Up- The Vamps

_A/N:_ I hope you enjoy this one! I certainly did. It's really important for the rest of the story and I'm glad the song that goes with it is this one. When I heard this song it just screamed Captain Swan to me. I've also decided that after last night, in the sequel we need a Killian and Arthur friendship that's just snark and awesomeness. Thanks for all the support this story has been getting! It's really inspiring me to keep up with this schedule! You're all amazing. Let me know what you think of this! And if any of you are from Alberta- stay safe and know we're praying for you all out here on the East Coast.

Song: watch?v=e12KryuLcbs

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma woke to the smell of bacon and the sound of fat spattering on the stove. And to warmth against her chest, a slow and even rhythm of movement against her as someone breathed. Emma cracked an eye, startling for a moment at Killian tucked against her. Emma's arms were still around him, the one underneath his firm body, asleep and tingling painfully. They had both stayed exactly how they'd fallen asleep, in each other's arms on top of the blankets, and Emma found herself still not wanting to move.

But there was so much that needed to be worked out that she couldn't stay in bed. Somehow the mess they'd found themselves in had to be solved. How could they get Liam out of the foster care system, or at least in a home together? How did they reunite the brothers? How did anything get fixed?

Emma felt helpless. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't believe that she'd held Killian through the night without having a panic attack. But that was where her usefulness ended. What Blue had said to her, it rang too true for her. It cut to the very heart of Emma's insecurities. She didn't know how to move past them. It wasn't as if she could prove them wrong.

 _Fuck._ An overwhelming feeling to go find the nearest sharp object swelled up. It would be so easy to hurt the tips of her fingers and cement that she couldn't prove the school wrong, to relieve the pressure to try. Emma had been doing it for years. It was always easier to prove someone right than wrong. It was easier not to fight. To hurt physically instead of hurt because of the scars that crisscrossed her soul. But Emma knew Killian would notice if she did that. So instead she squeezed him tighter.

"Swan?" Killian's drowsy voice asked, turning towards her in the circle of her arms. The bruises around his eye were darker, the lid swollen to the point where only a sliver of blue was visible. The cuts had scabbed up and darkened. But at least the older bruises, the ones on his jaw, had started to lighten to a sickly green.

Emma startled backwards, rolling against the wall, not meaning to have woken him up in her attempt to anchor herself. She'd never meant for him to see her trying to hang onto him. She'd never wanted to pressure him, make him thing he needed to put up with her to keep her safe. "Sorry."

Killian gave her a puzzled look. "For what?"

"Waking you up." Emma glanced down at her hands, annoyed at the superficial words for the agony her mind was causing her. She always messed everything up. She could never get anything right.

Killian gave a sniff of the air. "Well it smells like Granny would be waking us up soon anyways." Killian reached over and gave her hand a squeeze, as if he somehow sensed how she was feeling. Emma glanced down between them and he gave their intertwined fingers a shake. "Thank you for last night." Emma glanced back up at him, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks at Killian's soft gaze. "You have a lovely voice."

"She's a music prodigy. Didn't you know?" Granny asked from the doorway, eyebrow raising in humour as the two of them jumped apart.

"I'm sorry Ms. uh, Granny. Nothing happened," Killian stuttered out, jumping up from the mattress, arms raising in a placating move. Emma felt the pang of rejection watching Killian before guilt overtook that emotion as she realized that Killian had probably been punished brutally for stepping out of line for years. This was probably a natural reaction for him.

Granny seemed to understand this too. "It's fine, dear. I know. I checked on you both through the night when I heard the singing end. You'd think you were both nuns with how you were." Granny turned away from the door with a laugh. "Come get breakfast, we need to talk."

Killian sent Emma a look, swallowing visibly. Emma tried to send him a reassuring smile but she couldn't. She had no right to. As much as it pained her, Emma knew only Granny could bring the Jones brothers back together.

"Let's go," Emma murmured. Killian reached out, motioning for her hand. She took his and let him pull her up then lead her out of the room, his warm grasp steady, even in the face of so much uncertainty.

Granny met them with two plates piled high with French toast and bacon in front of the couch, setting the food down on the coffee table. She grabbed the arm chair in the corner and pulled it closer before disappearing into the kitchen again. Granny reappeared with a tray of orange juice, syrup, silverware and her own plate. She sat everything down then leaned forward, looking at Killian

"As much as I hate to spoil a good meal with talk like this, we need to work out what you're going to do, Killian."

Killian nodded, swallowing the bite of bacon he'd been chewing. "I'll go back to my house. I won't trouble you. It's too much for me to be eating your food and using your bed. Maybe you can get Lee to stay here instead? I can pay you for the food he eats."

Granny held up her hands. "That's not what I mean, dear. For one, you're still underage. Child Protective Services are going to put you in the system and even if you can be declared an independent in the court system, how are you going to look after the house? Pay for the mortgage, the power, the heat and the food and still go to school? You'd need a house for Liam to come back to and working at the pier, I doubt you'd make enough money to keep the place."

Killian flinched at the blunt words. Emma couldn't help but do so as well. It was the truth. And a hard one at that. Killian didn't work full time and it was winter anyways so no one did at the pier. Jobs were short around Storybrooke so there was very little chance he could get a second one to supplement and still go to school. Killian would need his high school diploma if he wanted any chance of being able to support his brother once he turned eighteen.

"So what do you suggest I do?" Killian asked, vulnerability shining through in his voice. Emma wanted to jump up and pace, do something. She wanted- needed- to help Killian. She just wished she could.

"Do you have any family?" Granny asked, a small cringe pulling at her lips. "Here or back in the UK? I know you probably don't want to move back but it would get the two of you together."

Emma barely swallowed her gasp, all hunger she may have had slithering away as a heavy weight took up residence inside of her. She hadn't considered Killian having to leave. She thought they'd have more time. That she could actually kiss him. Explore what being affectionate meant. What being loved without feeling like she was being pitied meant. She thought, deep in the recesses of her mind where her fear was less, that she'd have the time to love him. And tell him she loved him. And maybe he'd have the time to say it back. She'd never considered Killian, the first person she'd been able to show affection to since she was abandoned by her parents, would have to leave her to keep his family together.

She couldn't blame him. But she didn't want him to.

Killian chewed on his lip then clenched his teeth, the tendon in his jaw jumping. Emma needed to know what he was thinking, needed to know how much time they would have left. She wasn't sure how she was going to be able to prepare but she needed to know how much time she would have to try.

"There may be someone. Here in the States. But I don't know. I haven't talked to him since I left England." Killian's voice was slow and measured, unsure. Again, Emma couldn't blame him. Did he think that no one really cared about him and that was why he was left with his father? Did he think his family had forgotten about him when they left since no one tracked them down? In that moment Emma saw just how similar she was to Killian. Killian was a kindred spirit. And she was going to lose him.

"Who?" Granny asked.

"My brother, Liam."

Granny coughed on the bacon she'd been eating. "Killian, your brother Liam is seven. The boy can't be your legal guardian." Did Killian have a concussion from the beating? Maybe Emma should have checked his pupils. Or better yet actually taken him to a hospital.

Killian shook his head, pushing up from the sofa, an anxious energy radiating off him. Emma could see the urge to run, to avoid the pain. "No. Not that one. My older brother Liam."

"You're going to have to explain," Granny replied, sounding concerned, as if she still believed there was something wrong with Killian. Emma was just confused. Liam Jones was a seven year old. Why would Killian have two brothers with the same name? And why would Liam not have come with Killian and his father when they left England? Was this older Liam made up?

Killian pulled a hand through his hair, tugging at it as he stalked away to the open space in front of the piano. "Haven't you ever wondered why I never call little Liam by his actual name? That I always call him lad or Lee?" Emma's eyes narrowed in recognition of that fact. She nodded. "It's because to me, Liam Jones is my older brother. A lot older. Liam was eighteen when Ma died. Legal age. Away at school learning to become a captain."

"And your father didn't take him to America too?"

Killian shook his head, gritting his teeth so hard that Emma could hear it from the couch. "Would have been another mouth to feed. Liam was legal. Papa wouldn't have gotten in trouble for leaving him." Emma could hear how raw the pain of losing his older brother was. Could hear how desperately young Killian must have fought to convince his father to take them. "When Lee came along, Papa named him after Liam as some sort of sick penance. And of course Lee's mother wouldn't have known the difference, Papa never talked about leaving his first born on a different continent without a word of warning."

"And you never tried to find Liam? Not even when the abuse started?" Granny asked. Killian shut his eyes, breathing out a pained breath.

"I never said I didn't try. But do you know how many Liam Joneses there are in the world? I tried so many times until it was a waste of energy when I should have been looking after Lee. You have to remember, I was seven when I left Brighton. Too young to remember what street I lived on. And if I asked Papa anything about England, well-" Killian trailed off, letting the sickening realization of what had happened sink in to Granny and Emma. Emma wanted to cry at everything Killian had had to deal with. She desperately wanted to help. If only she knew how. If only she could. "It wasn't until I got to high school and was allowed access regularly to a computer lab that I could track down Brighton city records and the local police. By then Liam Jones had long left with no forwarding address and my Ma's only sister had died. I used to think maybe Liam would find us. But we never stayed in one place long enough to put down roots and always kept our distance so no one actually knew us. At least that's what I tell myself about why Liam never came for me." Killian sunk down onto the floor, hanging his head. He didn't cry but he did breathe deeply, trying to control his emotions. Was what had happened with his older brother one of the reasons Killian was so determined to keep his brother? Was Killian so determined not to let another Jones boy be seemingly abandoned by his older brother that he'd put up with years of abuse?

"And you have no idea where Liam might have moved?"

Killian shook his head. "As a lad I remember Liam telling me he always wanted to come to America, captain a big Navy ship on a Hero's Quest. But I don't know if he ever immigrated. As I said, Google isn't much help when you're just one person with a common name."

"What if we hire a private investigator now, Killian? I'm sure Liam would want to know where you are just as much as you've wanted to know where he is. Maybe he's in the States and can take you both in? It's your best bet at getting your brother back."

Killian shook his head. "I've thought about it but it would cost thousands of dollars to find someone with so little to go on. I've got barely anything to my name now since Papa lost his job and I had to pay this month's rent. I can't afford it."

"Well, what if-" Killian stood suddenly, cutting Granny off, knowing what she was going to say.

"No, I can't take any of your money. You've been too kind to me already. There has to be another way." Killian's tone, the blank expression as he fought for control told Emma that he knew there was no other way. If Killian didn't hire a private eye to find his brother, there was almost no chance little Liam would escape the foster care system.

Killian started pacing again and Emma's heart broke. Everything the man had worked towards, had been beaten for, had sacrificed and saved for, had cut himself off from the world for, was lost because there was no way he could get a couple thousand dollars before any chance at reunification was possible. And Killian knew it. Emma watched his strength as he paced, clamouring for another solution. After everything Killian had been through he still pushed on. Killian never stopped fighting for the thing he loved most- his little brother.

Emma herself had quit and in that moment she felt ashamed. She'd lost her fighting spirit years prior. Yes she'd been through a hell of a life, abandoned, broken, devalued. But she still had a home, had Granny who, Emma realized, _hadn't_ thrown her out when she hit eighteen and most likely wouldn't when she graduated. Killian was busting down preconceived notions about what teenage boys were capable of and Emma was living up to everything people predicted of her. Emma was just surviving. She hadn't lived since she gave up music.

Music. Music had once been the light of Emma's life. It had been her own special brand of magic. And she'd given it all up because she was scared she'd never be good enough. She'd given it up and had proved the school- and her parents- right about just what a failure she was. But music was her gift. Music was more than just something someone who was supposed to care for her measured her worth in. Music was something that could change lived.

Emma glanced at the piano, dusty in its lack of use. She'd once loved the sounds she could pull from it, stretching her toes to reach the pedals as a child. She'd loved what people did with music. How they sang. How they danced. How they laughed. How they cried. She'd loved what she could do for others with her music. Emma had actually loved herself when she'd played, even in those moments when she was first starting to self-harm but playing benefits. For a blissful hour of a concert she'd loved herself, been in the one place for her. _And Emma missed that._

Emma missed herself.

She didn't play music because it brought glory. She played because at her very core, she was music.

 _Fuck the school and what they believed. Fuck what her parents thought of her._

Emma drew in a big breath. "I can do it." Killian paused his frantic movements, turning to face her as she spoke up for the first time the whole conversation.

"What?" he asked, clearly confused. Granny had stilled, eyes narrowing as she measured Emma up. Emma ignored her, scared to lose her nerve. This was the first time she'd seen through the protective fog she'd lived in for the last few years and she was determined not to be clouded again before she could get this out.

"I can get you the money," Emma answered, voice determined.

"Emma, I'm not asking you to steal some watches to get three grand. I'm being serious."

"And so am I," Emma replied. She held up her hands, displaying them for Killian who watched her as if she'd grown a second head. "I can get you three grand in two hours. Completely legally."

"How?"

Emma motioned to the piano, feeling her breathing get a little rocky as it sunk in what she was about to agree to do. "By playing a benefit for you." She let the corner of her mouth quirk up as she saw Granny grin out of the corner of her eye. She turned a bit so she could face them both at once, trying to sound braver than she felt. "I'm a music prodigy, didn't you know?"


	20. Four Little Swans - Tchaikovsky

_A/N:_ I'm sorry this chapter is late. I've had a really bad night with my OCD and really struggled with getting even two minutes without compulsions for most of the night. But I hope you like what happens in this chapter. I'm pretty pleased with it, even if it did get cheesy in some places in my opinion. Also, this song is called Dance of the Little Swans but I've also seen it called Four Little Swans when danced so I'm using that name because it fits better with the flash backs (3 past Swans, one present). I hope you're all okay with that. Also, Monday's chapter may be late and go up Tuesday depending on how this weekend goes because on Monday I graduate from university and am going up the night before which means probably no writing. Thanks so much for the support on this story. It means so much to me. You're all amazing. Let me know what you think of this one. Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=-gApOfm4qd0&index=1&list=RD-gApOfm4qd0

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belongs to ABC and the show's creators.

 _"_ _I'm a music prodigy, didn't you know?"_

Killian gaped at her for a moment before his whole demeanor changed to one of shock and guilt. "No, Emma," he practically yelled in his rush to get the words out. Emma flinched back and Killian softened, but only slightly. "Emma, I can't let you do this. I know why you don't play, it's too much for this."

"Music destroyed my family," Emma answered in a small voice, looking at her knees. "Why can't it bring yours back together?"

Before Killian could continue to argue, Granny cut in, standing. "Killian, why don't you run back to your place and get some clothing and what not?" While it was phrased as a suggestion, the tone said nothing but order. Killian didn't move for a long while, eyes trained on Emma before sighing, the urge to obey the authority figure too high. Emma didn't look up until Killian left the apartment.

Granny came around the table and settled directly in front of her. She smiled softly, reaching forward to stroke Emma's knuckles then handed her the abandoned breakfast plate, motioning for her to eat. Emma took the plate but didn't move, couldn't eat with the emotions swirling through her.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Granny asked softly.

"I don't know if I'm ready but I'm going to do it," Emma answered. "I have to try."

Granny was silent for a long moment. "You know you aren't your parents Emma. You never have been. They would have not questioned doing the benefit. They would have charged and made sure the word was out of all the good they were doing. They did everything for the glory. And here you are, practically shaking, but saying yes because it's the right thing to do."

Emma didn't answer. She didn't know how to. Emma didn't remember that side of her parents even though she'd come to learn it from a distance, an ocean away. She remembered moving around, being required to practice eight hours a day and homeschool so she would never be too far from her piano. She remembered the absolute talent her parents had, her mother the flute and her father a violinist. She'd seen their ambition but not the heartless way they went after what they wanted. She didn't remember that. And maybe that was why Emma was so scared to become her parents. She'd never seen it coming with them. What if one day she woke up and had left her own family on another continent because she got an offer to play piano in Germany?

But maybe not. There was a tiny part of her that was whispering that she wouldn't. That if she had someone like Killian, a family like Granny and Red and Killian and Liam, one she had built or stumbled into, maybe she wouldn't want to leave. Emma had been fighting her skills for years so she wouldn't leave. Maybe it wasn't so much the fear that made her want to be with her family but the fact that she loved them.

"If you're sure Emma, I'll call Ruby." Ruby had always planned the benefits before Emma quit. She was a communications student, always had the flair for charming and running events, far better than Emma or Granny.

"Call her," Emma whispered back, the finality of her words settling heavy in her chest.

"Classical, temporary?" Emma shrugged as an answer. She wasn't really positive what her damaged fingers would be able to play to a performance degree.

"Portland or Boston for the show?"

This Emma knew the answer to. She'd never play in Portland, just like she'd never play in New York. Too many of her memories haunted her there. Her parents had last worked there. That was the orchestra that had given New York the permission to send them on exchange.

"Boston," she answered vehemently. "More people and better venues," Emma added quickly, trying to cover her outburst. Granny nodded with a small smile but Emma could tell she understood that there was more to Emma's answer than just population and room acoustics.

"Alright, dear. I think right now I'll go call Ruby in the Diner. I think some alone time would do you some good." Granny stood, taking the still untouched plate from Emma's hand. "I'm so proud of you dear. But answer me one thing before I go." Emma glanced up at Granny, raising her brow a bit. "Did you hug him or did he you?"

Emma didn't have to ask why she wanted to know that. Or why it was important. "I hugged him."

Granny gave a satisfied smile. "I knew he'd be good for you." With that she swept out of the apartment, leaving Emma on the couch, partially wishing that the big divot in it would swallow her whole.

The other part of her was drawn to the unused piano. How many times had she sat on the sofa and felt the pull but fought it by bruising the skin under her nails or flicking her fingers through a lit candle? This time there was no reason to fight it. She needed to play. For Killian. And Liam. And maybe even herself.

Without giving permission her legs walked her over to the piano. Emma stood in front of the mahogany wood, pushing up onto her toes and sinking back down a few times. The piano used to have a lovely sound, an antique that Granny's husband had bought her years before even Ruby was living in the house. It hadn't been tuned since Emma had stopped playing though. Would it be flat in any places it shouldn't? Would the ivory have cracked? Would she be able to pull the same melodies from it? Or more importantly herself?

Emma huffed out a breath. She wasn't going to figure this out just staring at the winding wood grain, the scratches along the front panel from the night Ruby had gotten drunk and fallen onto it when she was sneaking back into the apartment after a party. Emma reached out and grabbed the bench, adjusting it before slipping on.

Emma hadn't sat at the seat for years. Not since she'd played Sleeping Beauty Waltz and cried against the wood. The little light spots from her teardrops were still visible from where they'd stained the key cover. Emma gave her head a shake.

It was now or never. She didn't want to do this when someone else was around to witness the potential emotional destruction trying to play may cause.

Reaching forward, Emma eased the key cover open, breath catching as she studied the keys. Her fingers shook as she raised them to the keyboard, hovering for a moment before dropping them onto the cool ivory. Her whole body shook. This had been the first time since she'd touched a piano key since that last day. She'd forgotten the little grooves in the base of the keys from years of playing, the little dents that fit her fingers so perfectly. She let the weight of several fingers shift, watching the keys sink in almost slow motion as the first note of Tchaikovsky's _Four Little Swans_ sounded in the room.

 _At four years old Emma was terribly impatient. She wanted to play like the greats. Everyone always told her she was Mozart. So why couldn't she play like him now? Emma had already mastered a few of Beethoven's easier symphonies. Why wouldn't her parents let her learn something more difficult? Like they played? Emma desperately wanted to play Tchaikovsky- one of the Swan Songs like her name._

 _Emma pushed down on the keys, feet swinging off the bench. She was too short to reach the peddles and it irritated her to no end. She played a few more notes, wiggling happily in her seat. She wasn't playing anything really, just what sounded good to her ears._

 _"_ _Emma!" her mother snapped behind her. Emma stilled, swinging around on the bench._

 _"_ _Yes Mom?" Her mother didn't look happy. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a bun on the top of her head, half her eye makeup done. Emma wished she looked like her, eyes darkened with makeup, face with sharper lines and no dent in the chin. There was a concert tonight and her mother was going to be a soloist._

 _"_ _What did I tell you about dancing in your seat? Do you want to be one of the greats? Or nobody?"_

 _Emma bowed her head. "One of the greats," she answered, chastised. She knew she wasn't supposed to move like that. She needed to be serious, sophisticated if she wanted to put forward the right impression._

 _"_ _Then do it properly." With that her mother turned away, heading back towards the apartment's only bathroom. Emma slid around again, straightening her back and placed her fingers on the keys._

 _"_ _One of the greats," she whispered to herself._

"One of the greats," Emma choked out as she pulled the first few bars of _Four Little Swans_ from the keys, the steady rhythm building under stiff fingers. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to make the transition to the next set of repeating notes, hindered further by the gasp of a sob that ripped from her chest. But she kept going. She wasn't allowed to stop.

 _Eight-year-old Emma was cocky. She knew she was good. She had already been invited to play with the Portland Orchestra as a special guest for their Christmas Spectacular. How many eight-year-olds got such glory._

 _Her fingers slid easily across the keys of the piano pushed against the wall of the too small apartment they were renting. Behind her, her father clapped, not in praise but to keep her time like a metronome with strict comments if she went off time._

 _Emma would be playing Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite at the concert. She loved Tchaikovsky. It was magical and when Emma played it she felt like she was casting a spell over all who listened, enchanting them with the melodies._

 _The doorbell rang and Emma stopped her movements._

 _"_ _Emma," her father intoned behind her, clapping harder, a sign that Emma needed to start again._

 _Emma sighed, backed up a bar and started again, ears straining_

 _"_ _Emma," her father intoned behind her, clapping harder, a sign that Emma needed to start again._

 _Emma sighed, backed up a bar and started again, ears straining to hear who was talking to her mother at the door. It was hard to hear over the notes and before Emma could get a handle on who owned the familiar sounding voice the door was shut and her mother was entering the living room._

 _"_ _Who was it?" her father asked as he kept up his steady rhythm._

 _"_ _Little Lilly." Lilly was pretty much the only friend Emma had. They'd met through the state's Youth Orchestra and found out they lived only a few blocks apart, Lily a flutist and wild child. "She wanted Emma to go skating for the block party."_

 _"_ _And I couldn't go?" Emma asked, turning her head and stilling again._

 _"_ _What do you want to be, Emma? People like Lily will never be that because they don't prioritize. What do you want to be?" she asked again._

 _"_ _One of the greats," Emma intoned, starting again._

"One of the greats," Emma forced out between teeth chattering with sobs. She wasn't ready. She knew that now. Not for the playing, that was fine. She wasn't ready for the memories of her parents, the ones tied to music and the ones that had eventually been so overwhelming that she'd stopped playing all together.

Emma could barely hear the notes over her chest wracking sobs. But she didn't stop. The greats didn't stop. The greats didn't get left behind.

 _"_ _Isn't it a lovely piano, Emma?" her mother asked._

 _Emma nodded, fingers itching to play a bit. But it wasn't her piano. Emma was a guest in this house. For two weeks she'd be watched by this older lady and the teenager with the firetruck red streaked hair scowling in the corner. Emma didn't really even remember their names. But she'd not be here long and they had a piano. That's all that mattered._

 _Emma's father, a tall man with close cropped grey hair checked his watch. "The taxi will be here soon, Ava."_

 _Emma's mother nodded, picking up the suitcase that sat at her feet. It was a huge case which seemed strange to Emma. How much did she need for two weeks? It looked like her whole wardrobe could fit in the suitcase she was wheeling around._

 _"_ _Emma, do you remember what we told you?" her mother asked as she moved towards the door. Emma followed, feeling her chest get tight. This was the first time she'd be away from her parents for more than a night. They didn't like her to be away for long. It took too much time away from practicing._

 _"_ _Be good and eight hours a day," Emma answered, motioning back to the piano._

 _"_ _She seriously has to practice for eight hours?" the teenage girl asked._

 _Emma's mother stiffened at the harsh words. The taxi horn sounded from outside. "She does if she wants to be one of the greats." With that her parents were out the door of the little apartment and moving down the stairs._

 _"_ _Bye," Emma shouted, too stunned by the abrupt departure to run after them._

 _"_ _Be good," her mother replied. The old lady shut the door, a slight disgusted look on her face that Emma didn't quite understand._

 _"_ _Do you actually want to be one of the greats?" she asked, staring at Emma hard._

 _Emma shrugged. It wasn't like she knew another option other than failure. "Yes."_

Emma wound the song down as her body shook. She was no longer what her parents would consider as great. Her head fell against the tear dampened keys.

 _"_ _Swan,"_ a soft voice came behind her. _Killian._

Emma tried to stop her crying but she was so far gone she couldn't even lift her head. There was a pressure against her side as Killian slipped onto the piano bench next to her.

"You're amazing, Swan," Killian said, speaking in a hushed tone.

"But I'm not _great_ ," Emma forced out.

Killian's hand went to the small of her back, a gentle warmth as his thumb worked circles into her skin. "You, Emma Swan, are the most amazing person I've ever known. And not just because you can play like you do. Because you are sitting here, sobbing because your past is all hurt, and yet you're still making something beautiful."

Emma hiccupped and looked up at the kind words. Killian gave her a soft smile, blue eyes wide and honest.

"You're beautiful," Killian whispered, voice rough.

Before Emma could respond Killian closed the rest of the distance between them and pressed his lips against Emma's.

It was only a second but it was there. Warm and gentle. Full of potential, waiting. For permission. For Emma. Killian pulled back, eyes flicking between her lips and her tear reddened eyes. She knew she wasn't beautiful in that moment. Not objectively. Not with hair still mussed from sleep, eyes swollen, skin stained with salty tears of pain. But Killian objectively wasn't beautiful either. Not with the bruises and cuts, skin discoloured by his own father. But looking at him, Emma saw nothing but beauty. And she wasn't going to let the chance with such a beautiful man go.

"You make me beautiful," Emma answered, before closing the gap between them herself this time.

This time the kiss wasn't short. It wasn't held back. It was months of unacted on attraction. It was the years of yearning for someone, then finding them in someone who was angry and hurt and closed off. It was a first kiss but more than that. It was a heart opening for the first time.

Killian's hand moved up Emma's back, winding into her hair. Emma let her own hand lift from the keys, rubbing along the small amount of stubble that had started since Killian had been away from his razor for a few days. They pulled apart for a breath, just enough so they could get air but noses still touching.

Killian gave a little huff of a laugh. It was a disbelieving sound, as if he'd just realized he'd kissed her. Emma joined in. If someone would have told her she'd be kissing Killian Jones back in September she would have figured the chances of that were about as high as- well, as her playing the piano again.

"Will you play me something?" Killian asked softly, whispered words brushing in little air puffs against her lips.

"Will you stay here with me," Emma asked back, not sure she was ready to chance the memories again alone.

"Until the end of the world or time, love."

Emma gave him a tentative smile at the words, emotions still running high. "What would you like to hear?"

"Something that will make you happy."

Emma nodded and turned back to the keys. Killian's hand returned to the small of her back from where it had been twisting through her golden hair. Music hadn't made her happy in a long time. But one man and his little brother had changed that, made her realize she needed music and could do things with it. That man had thought she was doing too much for him and his brother. But really, those two had changed everything for her, even if she thought nothing had when they'd been together before. Turned out it had.

Emma played _Chopsticks._


	21. Fight Song - Rachel Platten

_A/N:_ Sorry this chapter is late. I graduated from university yesterday (with first class honours with distinction) and when I got home I went up to my room around 8:00 planning to write and just fell asleep then. Oops. But better late than never right? By my best guess there's going to be three more chapters and an epilogue after this one so it's winding down. But no worries, there is a sequel coming for those interested. Thank you so much for all the support, faves, follows, views and reviews. It means the world to me and inspires me to write, even when life is busy. I'm going to do my best to get the next one up on time, though I am going on a grad trip Thursday night for the weekend so I can't guarantee it. It may end up being just a short one so I can get something up for you to tide over until Monday.

Song: watch?v=xo1VInw-SKc

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

By Sunday Killian was antsy. It was the longest he'd ever been away from his brother and often he would start to pace behind Emma as she sat at the piano, mumbling about Liam's condition. Killian would panic about whether Liam had his book bag for school on Monday, whether the foster mother knew Liam liked his ketchup kept in the fridge and wouldn't eat it if it was warm, whether he was safe, warm, happy. Often then it would turn to whether trying to get Liam back was actually the best idea. When that happened Emma would have to stop practice all together, call him over and reassure Killian that no one knew Liam as well as he did, that no one could care for Liam as Killian and his older brother could. The anxiety between the two of them was nearly crippling.

When Killian wasn't wearing a path in the floor behind her Emma was struggling over the keys. It was a near constant battle to keep her parent's voices out of the back of her head. To Emma she was no longer great. Her fingers were slower than they'd been, the muscles tight and paining her after just two hours rather than the hours at a time she used to be. And then the frustration would come crashing in like a tsunami because she did this to herself. She stopped playing for years and then damaged her fingers with lighters and sharp objects, hit them repeatedly against tables and door frames, her steering wheel and the Diner's counter. Guilt walked hand in hand with the frustration because Emma couldn't stop herself from thinking about how much better the benefit would be had she never stopped playing music, had she never started self-harming as a coping method and then as a scapegoat. She would have had an established following, would have been able to make Killian so much more money. But now- Emma just had to hope she could pull her shit together enough to make it to the benefit.

Granny spent most of her time in the Diner, leaving Emma to her privacy to practice, though would come up every hour or so to check on them both and update them on Ruby's progress. Ruby had been ecstatic to hear about the plan, telling Granny that she was going to kiss Killian when she met him for what he'd done. Ruby had started planning immediately and had booked a medium sized, old fashion concert hall for the benefit. She insisted that it was casual enough while still being in a good area to encourage the richer music fans to attend. To Emma, the hall was far too big, the thought of all the eyes that would be watching her making her fingers stutter over the keys as she worked through the intro of _Claire de Lune._ Info and posters were circulating through Boston and online, Emma coming across a picture of herself and some background when she googled the concert hall.

Monday morning Killian was pacing behind Emma as she spread her sheet music out on the piano to try and decide her set list. Every few minutes she'd push the music away and play the last few bars of one piece and the first few of another to see how they'd flow. She hadn't had to make a set list in years and she'd forgotten how anal she got about it. Killian's nervous energy wasn't helping and Emma found herself wishing his bruising had cleared up so he could have gone to school.

After the first hour Emma gave up debating how many pieces from classical ballets she could get away with and what theme she should follow for her set list and turned to watch Killian move through the room. Killian's hand raked through his hair, giving a tug at the ends as he paced. His bruising was a sickening green brown, climbing up his face. His eye wasn't swollen anymore but it was bruised black, the colour climbing up to the bridge of his nose. It would probably be clear by the benefit.

"Killian," Emma called, catching his attention. Killian stopped his pacing, though his hand kept twitching at his side. He needed a distraction and Emma was the only one around to give him one. "Come here."

Killian came over to the piano, sitting when Emma patted the bench beside her. Emma motioned to the papers in front of her.

"This is your benefit and I've never asked what you wanted me to play."

Killian shrugged, not looking at the music, still distracted. "You're the pianist."

Emma sighed, frustrated. With her anxiety levels she really wasn't in the mindset to dance around this with Killian. "Come on, Killian. Your brother is okay, I promise. And you'll be together again soon."

"But I don't _know_ that. I haven't seen or talked to him since Friday. Everyone keeps telling me Lee's in a good home, that he's looked after, but the only person who's ever looked after him is me. I need to be the one to decide if he's okay."

Emma nodded, not expecting such an outburst when he'd been mainly talking to himself for the last few days. It made her chest constrict because Killian was right. The man had spent years looking out for his brother and now that he was no longer Lee's protector he didn't know what to do with himself. It wasn't just a position Killian could give up immediately.

Emma gave Killian's shoulder a nudge, feeling that tingle despite Killian's emotions because she was finally okay to touch him, they'd finally taken a step forward that weekend. "Okay, how about I make you a deal?"

Killian raised his brow. "What do you have in mind, Swan."

"How about you spend this morning helping me with the set list and then at lunchtime you and I will drive up to the elementary school and see Liam?"

"You wouldn't mind doing that?" Killian asked, eyes widening a bit. "Am I allowed?"

Emma shrugged. "Sure, why not. I'm sure Liam's missing you. It will make his day and you definitely need it."

Killian's face fell a bit, guilt clouding his eyes. "I'm sorry I've been distracted. You're doing all this for me and it's like I've been ignoring you."

Emma shook her head. Emma didn't know how many times she was going to have to tell Killian that she needed this benefit for herself as well. Killian had only really been the catalyst for Emma, the excuse to force herself back in. Just like the self-harm had sometimes been an excuse for her not to play when she was too weak to stop the desire, the benefit was the reason she needed to play beyond all her doubts. Emma needed to return to music for her own sake. She needed to climb out of the hole she'd dug herself of self-doubt and loathing and the only way she was going to do that was with the help of music. She needed to prove to herself that she was worth it.

"This isn't just for you, Killian. And it's fine. We've both been distracted with our own stuff."

Killian nodded after a moment, leaning over to press his lips against Emma's temple. Emma's lips curved up slightly automatically, the warmth radiating across her skin from where Killian had touched.

"I'll try to help now though. But I'm not sure how."

Emma's smile grew larger. "I'll help. You just tell me what you like."

They spent the next few hours pouring over the music, Emma playing bits and pieces for Killian, googling new music when Killian suggested an old English folk song she didn't know. Creating a set list with Killian pressed against her, sometimes running his hand up and down her back, was far more pleasant than it had been while he paced behind her. The closeness was something Emma had craved for years and adjusting to desiring physical contact again was far easier than she'd expected. Or maybe it was just Killian's contact.

In the end the set list had come out as an eclectic mix of piano music that probably wouldn't satisfy the snootiest of concert goers but it was a mix of her own tastes and Killian's. Killian had tentatively requested a few of the songs he remembered his mother singing, English and Irish folk tunes like _Loch Lamond, Leaving of Liverpool_ and _Galway Girl_. Emma only really had heard of _Loch Lamond_ but when Killian played the other pieces on his phone for her they sounded easy enough to master in a week. Mixed with that was the traditional pieces one expected at a piano concert, Debussy's _Claire de Lune_ , Bach's _Goldberg Variations,_ Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ and Mozart's _Alla Turca_. Rounding out the set to take it to two hours were the ballet pieces Emma loved and couldn't let go, probably too many Tchaikovsky pieces considering the mismatch of other song but this was to be her first concert back and she wanted the comfort of the pieces that had driven her to practice as a child. Emma needed the familiar tunes of Tchaikovsky's _Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy_ from The Nutcracker, Prokofiev's _Grand Waltz_ from Cinderella and the first act's _Allegro_ from Adam's Giselle. It was a mess. But it was one they'd made together so the concert goers would just have to deal with it.

At noon Emma packed up all her papers and followed Killian, who's anxiety had returned in full force, out to her Bug. They'd arrive at the school just as the children who stayed for lunch were being let out for their after lunch run around which would give them the chance to talk to Liam. In his hand Killian held a bag of supplies for Liam that he'd collected the same day Granny had kicked him out of the house to give Emma a moment's piece. Inside was a few clean pairs of socks, underwear, pants and shirts and Liam's teddy bear. Emma reached over as they drove up to the school, loosening Killian's grip on the bag. If he held it any tighter he'd tear it.

Emma parked in the closest parking spot to the playground she could find, hoping they could quickly spot Liam but when she got out it turned out she needn't worry because there was a little body running at the bright car.

"Killy!" the little boy shouted, barrelling straight into Killian's legs.

"Lee," Killian whispered, crouching down to better hug his brother.

They grasped onto each other, Killian swaying a bit onto his heels under the force his little brother was putting on his chest. Killian pressed a kiss to his brother's head before pulling back to examine Liam. Liam definitely fared better than his brother, having no injuries except for a lingering sad look in his eyes that hadn't been there before. That nearly broke Emma's heart. Killian pulled Liam back into his arms again, letting Liam burry his face in the crook of his big brother's neck.

Emma turned around, feeling she was intruding on the brother's reunion, pretending to fiddle with a chunk of ice stuck to the side mirror on the Bug.

"I missed you, Killian," Liam whispered, sounding like he was crying. "Miss Ingrid's really nice," Liam continued on. "She reads to me at night and loves to play in the snow with me but she doesn't know what shampoo I like or how to scramble eggs like you. I miss you."

"I missed you too." Emma closed her eyes at the sound of Killian's rocky voice. "But we'll be together soon, I promise."

"How?" Liam asked, voice unsure. Again Emma's heart constricted, unused to hearing that tone in the boy's voice.

"Emma's going to help us. Emma?" At Killian's call she turned, trying to smile at Liam boosted up on Killian's hip. Killian's face was bright as he looked at his brother then over at her.

"Hey Liam," Emma greeted, walking closer.

"Hi Emma. How's she gonna help us?" Liam asked, looking up at his brother. It was as if now that he'd been reunited with his brother he didn't want to look away in case he disappeared. Emma felt the pressure come over her to have this benefit be a success. It was up to her to bring in the money so she could reunite the brothers. If she didn't, well-

Emma shook herself out of the thoughts threatening to build until she'd have a panic attack.

"Remember how I told you about my older brother?"

Liam nodded. "The one we don't have money to find."

"Right. Well, Emma's going to play the piano at a concert to raise money so we can hire someone to find him."

"You can play the piano?" Liam asked, looking at Emma again. She nodded with a smile. "Are you good?"

"The best." Emma rolled her eyes at Killian, answering as if she wasn't there. But she couldn't bring herself to be annoyed because Killian looked just so happy about having his brother back in his arms.

"What if we can't find your brother?" Liam asked. Killian glanced towards Emma, the happiness draining away as Liam voiced the fear Emma had been feeling earlier, the one Killian seemed to be trying not to think about. Now Killian was scrambling to find something to say that would reassure his brother that they would be reunited permanently some how but he seemed to have no answer at all.

Emma chewed her lip, brain scrambling for a moment before she spoke up, instead. "Killian turns eighteen in two months. Any of the money we have left over from paying the investigator will go into Killian's bank account and he can use that to keep paying rent so you can come back, okay?"

Liam nodded, mulling over Emma's words. Killian was watching her with disbelief, as if he'd expected Emma to keep any of the extra money. Emma didn't want anything they made. She just wanted to make Killian's life a little easier and money would help with that.

The bell rang, signalling the time for the kids to return to class. Killian bent and put his brother down. Liam hugged his brother fiercely and Killian pressed another kiss to his head before pulling back.

"You be good, okay?"

Liam nodded. "Will I see you soon?"

"As soon as possible," Killian answered, reaching down to grab the bag he'd set at his feet when Liam had run over. "Now you go put this into your bag and take it back to Miss Ingrid's house. Behave, eat your vegetables and I promise," Killian said, voice breaking as he pulled his brother back against his chest one last time, "that I'll get you back."

"Love you, Killy."

"Love you too, Lee," Killian answered, pulling back and standing. "Now go, you'll be late for class."

Liam nodded, looking like he was trying really hard not to cry. "Okay, bye Emma."

"Bye Liam," Emma called, feeling heavy with the emotional atmosphere that was between the brothers.

"Bye Killian."

"Bye Lee."

With that Liam ran off to join the other kids and Killian turned to Emma. He looked just as upset as Liam had. Emma opened her arms and Killian rushed into them. She ran her fingers through his hair, scratching her nails against his scalp, trying to soothe.

"Did you really mean we could still have the money if we can't find Liam?" Killian was so used to people being selfish and treating him poorly that he expected Emma to profit from this, to only give him what was charged by the investigator. But Emma wasn't going to do that to him. Emma was going to help him. Just like he helped her.

Emma nodded, her cheek moving against Killian's own. "Of course. We're going to get your brother back, even if we have to wait until April."

"Thank you."

"No problem," Emma answered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She pulled back, moving towards the driver's side of the car. "Now, come on, I've got a concert to practice for."


	22. Brave - Sara Bareilles

_A/N:_ I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a long one, named after one of my favourite songs, and I'm surprised I got it finished before I leave tonight for my grad trip weekend. I hope this chapter doesn't seem sped through or forced. Thank you so much for all your support on this story. It really means the world to me. Hopefully see you Monday with the next installment. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=QUQsqBqxoR4

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma didn't go back to school after her suspension finished. Her suspension ended three days before the concert but Emma refused to go back until after. The whole issue with the school had started with comments about her music and Emma refused to associate with them again until she'd done this for herself. Also, she didn't want to risk the school finding out what she was doing. They were not going to get the satisfaction of her starting again because it wasn't because she had been threatened by them. The school could take their opinions and shove them.

Killian went back to school after three days at home. He wanted to stay home, felt responsible for Emma, but his attendance record was rocky at best and he couldn't risk losing credits and not graduating. Emma mostly appreciated the silence his absence caused. At least until her anxiety would grow. But by the time Emma was starting to freeze at the keys Killian would arrive back, slip into the living room behind her and sit down on the piano bench, hand going to her lower back. They wouldn't speak but it would give Emma the calm strength she needed to finish practicing until supper.

Life went fairly smoothly for Emma as she readjusted to having music, and Killian, in her life again.

Until the day of the concert and Emma found herself frozen. Completely and utterly. She was terrified. Because this was official. It wasn't just her doing it privately, or with Killian. It would be in a show with three hundred people in attendance. All staring at her. Expecting her to live up to the reputation she'd tried so hard to shed for years. She felt like a snake trying to put its skin back on. It never would fit just right again. Not when her parents had taken so many pieces of it with them to Europe.

But Emma kept trying to get the scales in the right place. She felt raw, exposed, her armour gone, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself all the pieces were present. Emma sat at the piano bench all day, waiting for it to feel right. She couldn't play until it did. It never did.

Footsteps sounded in the apartment behind her, much quicker than Killian's swagger was. Before Emma could turn, a little body had launched itself onto the piano bench, falling against her. She jumped, startled, and looked down to see Liam grinning at her.

Granny had gotten permission from Ingrid to take Liam with them to Boston. When Granny had told Killian he'd been ecstatic because he'd get his brother for the whole night since they were staying over to talk to a private investigator the next morning. Liam, of course, was beyond excited because he was going on a "vacation" with Killian. It seemed like the excitement hadn't worn off in the days since Ingrid had told him he was going.

"Lee!" Killian cried, exasperated as he came into the living room, face growing careful as he looked over Emma. Killian came over to the bench and picked Liam up. "Lee, why don't you go wait with Granny while I help Emma collect her stuff? Maybe you can have a snack before we leave?"

"Can't I stay and listen to Emma play?" Emma shot a glance at Killian, trying to convey with her eyes that she hadn't been able to play at all that day and didn't think she could now either.

Killian shook his head, seeming to understand. "You'll be able to do that at the concert. There's no time now." Emma sighed with relief that she wouldn't have to play, watching Liam's back retreat. When the apartment door shut she huffed out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"What's wrong, love?" Killian asked, slipping into the spot where Liam had just been.

Emma pursed her lips, debating whether she should tell Killian that she was panicked about the concert she was giving for him. He already felt guilt for it, Emma didn't want to make it worse. But he had obviously noticed that something was wrong.

"Is it the concert today?" Killian asked before Emma could answer. She took a deep breath and nodded. Killian made a tutting noise before pulling her closer to his side.

"I haven't been able to play at all today," Emma murmured, laying her head against his shoulder and turning her face against the smooth leather of his jacket.

"Do you want me to tell Granny to cancel? It's okay, Emma." Despite the immediate suggestion Emma could hear the traces of dread in his voice. Killian and Liam needed this benefit. She couldn't cancel. Even though Killian might be able to forgive her for backing out, Emma knew that she'd never be able to. If she cancelled it would be the final death blow for her ability to get back into music.

"No," Emma murmured, lips moving against him.

She felt Killian nod against her. "How can I make it better?"

Emma shrugged. She really wasn't sure. If she did she wouldn't be in the mess she was.

"I'll be with you the whole time."

"Will you stay backstage?" Emma asked, lifting her head from his shoulder to study his kind face.

"If that's where you want me to be, no one could keep me away." Killian leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, grinning when he felt Emma's cheek move with a small smile.

"Thank you," she replied quietly, feeling slightly better. Killian staying with her had been such a help through the week with her playing, she never would have started without him at all, so him being just a few feet away from her where she could see made the tension in her shoulders release fractionally.

Killian grinned and stood. "Come on, love. Let's get your dress and supplies. Granny's waiting for us downstairs- if she hasn't already tied Lee to a seat in the car."

Emma snorted out a light laugh, taking Killian's hand when he offered it. She let him lead her into her bedroom where a garment bag hung from the door. While Killian got that, Emma went and gathered up what little makeup she owned and her one pair of nude heels. At one point in time Emma had had a lot of concert appropriate wear. Now she just had the dress Ruby had found for her in Portland and couriered over.

Killian had been right about Liam and his excitement. They found Granny in her old Toyota SUV, Liam already in the backseat, buckled up and chatting away. She shot an amused gaze at the little boy before getting out to help Emma and Killian put the supplies they carried in the trunk.

"Someone's excited," Granny drawled, taking Emma's makeup bag from her hands.

Killian rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Did you expect anything less?"

"At least he's got enough excitement for you too, Emma," Granny answered, her soft smile balancing out the sassy words.

Emma didn't answer, just gave a tight smile and climbed into the passenger seat. While Granny and Killian got in, Emma pushed headphones into her ears, started a heavy metal playlist because she needed the angry lyrics, the opposite from Tchaikovsky to keep her from panicking, closed her eyes and forced herself to zone out for the entire drive to Boston.

Emma only opened her eyes when she felt the car stop. It felt like coming out of a daze. Her ears were ringing from the volume of the music and her eyes stung in the bright sunlight. She glanced at the clock on the dash before taking out her headphones. One hour to go.

Emma pulled the earphones out when her door opened, Killian standing there with her garment bag hung over his shoulder.

"Welcome back," he said with a slight grin.

Emma answered with an apologetic cringe of her own as she realized how rude she'd been. She slid out of the seat and took the bag from Killian. "I just couldn't listen to people."

"I know, love. I'm only teasing."

Before Emma could respond there was a shout from across the parking lot. They all turned to see Ruby running over, going at a remarkable speed considering the four inch heels she wore. Her hair was tied back in a fishtail braid, red dress flapping around her legs as she sprinted towards them. Mulan followed her at a much more relaxed pace, shaking her head at her girlfriend's antics. Emma braced for impact but Ruby didn't stop in front of her. Instead she skidded to a stop in front of Killian and pressed a loud and wet kiss against his cheek, her red lipstick transferring to Killian's quickly blushing skin.

"You are a miracle worker for getting her to play again," Ruby explained pulling back. "I'm Granny's granddaughter, Ruby. And this," Ruby said, motioning to her girlfriend, "is Mulan."

"Killian," Killian answered before waving Liam closer. "And this is my brother Lee."

"Nice to meet you. You're much hotter than I expected."

"Ruby!" Emma shouted, finally fed up with the woman's antics. Her cry made Ruby focus on her, turning all business again.

"Ah, our star. Come on, you're late. Go get dressed backstage. Killian, Liam, come help me set out the programs and then you can both change."

"But-" Emma started, planting her feet while Ruby tried to fill her arms with makeup and dresses. Killian reached over, laying his hand against her arm.

"I'll be quick, okay?" he murmured in her ear. "Get dressed, I'll be backstage by the time you finish."

Emma drew in a deep breath. She'd gone years without Killian in her life. She could make another half hour. "Okay. See you soon."

With that Emma shifted her belongings so she had a better grip on them and made her way into the theatre. She took a side door, nodding at a security guard and entered the cement hallway that led to where all the dressing rooms were. The atmosphere was cold but Emma didn't mind, not when she was already sweating nervously. Emma continued down the hallway until she found a door with a piece of paper tacked onto it, her name scrawled across it in what looked like red lipstick. _Ruby._ Emma shook her head and let herself in.

The dressing room was plain, empty of any costumes, so Emma hung up the garment bag on the rack and set her makeup down on the counter, illuminating the light up mirror. She once again put in her headphones, cranking the music before dumping out her makeup bag and going to work.

When she was finally satisfied that her eyeliner was even enough she got up and pulled out the dress Ruby had picked. The dress was a raw silk material in a light pink colour. It was sleeveless with thick straps and a v-neck. When Emma put it on it nipped in at the waist and then flared out to fall around her knees. It would drape nicely on the piano bench, formal but short enough to keep out of the way of her feet on the pedals. She slipped her feet into her heels and ran her sweaty palms down the skirt, smoothing it.

The door inched open and Emma yanked her headphones out, realizing she must have missed the initial knocking.

"Can I come in?" Killian called out, lilt soft. Emma glanced at the mirror, adjusting a few pieces of hair that had fallen out of her loose but high ponytail. This would be the first time Killian would see her dressed up and despite her nervousness for the benefit concert, she felt a surge of need for Killian to find her attractive.

"Yeah, sure," she replied, watching Killian open the door.

 _"_ _Swan,"_ Killian gasped out in a hoarse voice. "You look beautiful."

Emma smiled shyly. "You look-"

Killian smirked. "I know."

Killian wore slim cut black dress pants, a black dress shirt and black waistcoat with a dark grey paisley pattern across it. The outfit looked suspiciously new, except for his sturdy combat boots. All the black made his blue eyes stand out. It struck Emma then that he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. And he was with her.

Killian came over to her, taking her into his arms and holding lightly. "How are you feeling?" At his question the nerves came back. Emma cringed at him. Killian tightened his grip on her arms. "You're going to be wonderful. You won't disappoint. People will love you."

"But what if they don't?"

"Doesn't matter." Killian paused for a moment, trying to read her face, before drawing in a deep breath. "It doesn't matter because I love you."

Emma felt her eyes go wide. Killian had just said he loved her. Like the capital _L_ love. She detected no lie in his words whatsoever. His face was vulnerable and open. It amazed her, how after everything Killian had been through, he still had an extreme capacity to love.

When Emma didn't answer right away, Killian glanced down. "I'm sorry," he added, nearly tripping over his words in his haste. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I know we only kissed last week but I think I've been in love with you since Thanksgiving and I thought maybe I should tell you now, just in case you think something goes wrong, because you can be forgiven for anything when someone loves you, and I needed you to know-"

Emma was hit with an extreme need to answer him. Because there was no point in lying to him, or herself, anymore. No matter how sudden, how new they might be, it was true. And had been for a long time, even though she was terrified.

"I love you too." She wouldn't be playing a concert for him if she didn't.

"Really?" Killian asked in wonder.

Emma nodded, feeling all the anxiety drain away. Because she was loved. And she could love. Even with music returning to her life.

Killian leaned towards her, but before he could press his lips to hers, the door behind them opened. "Okay, it's time," Ruby said, raising her brow at the two of them, before turning and leaving.

It was time. Time to take the stage again. Time to let someone other than Killian or Granny hear her play. Emma expected the nerves to spike again but they didn't, not when Killian was slowly squeezing her hand.

"Ready, love?" he asked, voice and eyes soft. Emma nodded, not really trusting her voice despite the reduced nervousness, and let Killian lead her out of the dressing room and towards the stage.

By the time they reached the back curtains Ruby was just going on stage, carrying a mic. The whole stage was decorated like an enchanted forest. There were potted plants around the piano, a few tables with more bouquets and fairly lights set around the space. A grand piano, far more impressive than what Emma was used to playing on, sat in the middle of the stage, waxed surface shining in the light. It was quite the set. It seemed that in the years since Ruby had last helped plan a benefit, her talents had only grown.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," she said, addressing the audience with a smile. "Before we get started I wanted to thank you all for coming to such an important event. Not only is this a benefit to reunite three brothers after a family crisis, it is also the first time Miss Emma Swan will take the stage in over half a decade. I'm sure since you are here you know what talent she had then and let me assure you, it is no less now." Emma tried not to cringe at the lie. Or at least what she thought was a lie. "There will be donation boxes at the doors for when you leave should you wish to leave something for the Jones brothers. Until then, please join me in welcoming, Emma Swan."

Emma drew in a deep breath. Killian gave her hand a squeeze, before leaning over and kissing her cheek. "Break a leg, love," he whispered, letting her go. "I'll be right here the whole time."

With another steadying breath, Emma walked out onto the stage, loud applause swirling around her. She moved to the piano and settled herself on the bench before turning to the audience. The concert hall was packed, mainly filled with older individuals who Emma suspected knew who she was when she was playing the circuit as a younger child. A few families were scattered through the audience, Mulan, Granny and Liam in the front row, Liam waving wildly at her. In the very back was a large group of men in some uniform Emma couldn't make out under the harsh lighting. It seemed that Ruby had really done a good job in advertising and finding a variety of people to attend. Maybe that variety would help Emma's strange set list go over better.

Emma leaned over to the mic set next to the piano. "Hello," she started.

"Hi, Emma!" Liam's little voice answered from the audience, the group dissolving into laughter as Granny attempted to shush the child. The sound of the laughter was calming.

"Hi, Liam," Emma answered, lifting a hand in a small wave, before turning back to focus on the audience. She cleared her throat. "I'm not going to say much tonight, because you are not here to hear me talk. You're here to hear me play. So I'll just say a few words and then play straight." Emma glanced to the side stage where Killian stood, smiling at her. She gave him a little nod in return. "I swore off piano years ago. I was hurt. And alone. Or at least thought I was. But then, last fall, I met someone who very slowly taught me that I wasn't alone. That I was loved. Unfortunately, that same man, was dealing with abuse in the home as he tried to protect his brother until he was of legal age. Nearly two weeks ago a crisis happened and both of the Jones brothers were removed from their home. They needed some help to get back together and to find Killian's older brother who'd lost contact with him. I decided then that maybe I could get back into music. Maybe in the process of healing my own scars I could help with the brothers' as well. So this is that result," Emma said with a light laugh, swallowing around the emotion that had caught her. "I made this set list with Killian so I apologize for the lack of consistency. I hope you enjoy anyways though, and feel inspired enough to donate to the brothers generously. Thank you." The crowd clapped. Hidden by the side stage curtain Killian gave Emma a thumbs up, looking a bit emotional himself.

This was it. Emma raised her fingers to the keys and the crowd quieted, seeming to hold their breath. Emma counted backwards from three. _Three._ She made sure her hands were positioned properly. _Two._ She set her foot on the pedal, positioning so she could swivel her foot on her stiletto heel. _One._

Emma pressed down on the keys and soon the first strands of _Moonlight Sonata_ rang out. And that was it for Emma's nerves. Emma got caught up in the music, swaying with the notes. Halfway through _Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy,_ she actually caught herself laughing, the joy filling her like a magic light, radiating over the audience as they smiled and laughed a bit as well. Liam danced in his seat as Granny rolled her eyes, giving up trying to control the boy.

 _This._ This was what she'd been missing in her life. It had never been her parents really that had made her miserable. It was the lack of music. It was the absence of Emma's personal brand of magic. Music. She could make people laugh. Cry. Feel anger or isolation, joy or excitement with the notes she played. And for two hours straight that was what she did, only stopping a few times to sip the water Ruby had left for her and explain the occasional reason for a song pick. She took the audience through the spectrum of emotions, the audience hanging onto every notes, even the ones she missed or fumbled.

Before Emma could really process what she'd done, she'd come to the end of her set list and Ruby was hurrying onto the stage, grinning.

"Everyone, please join me in applauding Emma for what certainly will be remembered as one of the most memorable concerts Boston will see this year."

The concert hall filled with thunderous applauses, some standing. Emma got up from the bench, legs shaking with adrenaline and bowed deeply before settling again on the bench when the space quieted.

"Thank you all for staying tonight. Emma, what do you say about an encore?" Ruby asked, turning to her with a questioning brow.

Emma nodded, leaning to the mic, but looking at the side stage where Killian was practically glowing, a single red rose now in his hand. "On one condition. Killian, will you come out here and join me? This concert wouldn't be happening without your quiet strength."

Killian looked unsure for a moment, shifting between his feet and twirling the flower between his long fingers. Emma gave him a little wave of encouragement.

"Come on, Killy!" Liam shouted, eliciting laughter from the crowd.

Killian rolled his eyes at his brother's antics before nodding. As Killian came onto the stage to applause, there was a noise of the concert hall door flying open. Emma turned towards the noise, confused as to why someone leaving would make such a commotion.

But it wasn't someone leaving. A man in his late twenties stumbled down the aisle, curly brown hair in disarray. He wore a uniform similar to the men in the back. It wasn't until he got to the middle of the concert hall that Emma could make out bright blue eyes and a Navy insignia on the hat tucked under his arm.

Killian turned halfway across the stage to see who was making the noise, looking annoyed that someone would interrupt Emma. But when he saw the man he froze, entire body going rigid. The rose hit the floor, rolling until it fell off the stage.

The man's strong shoulders tightening as his eyes widened and mouth opened. And even though the man's lilting voice came out in a whisper, Emma heard it like a scream.

 _"_ _Brother?"_


	23. All I Ask - Adele

_A/N:_ Thank you all so much for the feedback on the last chapter! It was amazing! I hope you like this one just as much and know, this happens for a reason. The ending of this chapter will be important for Emma in the next (which is going to have a huge step forward for her that she needs to make only for herself). And remember, scars don't heal overnight. Emma's only started healing. I want this to be realistic for someone so hurt. I hope it comes across respectful of that. I really love this chapter, even though it's a bit sad in my opinon. The song I picked is really inspired by the last bit, from when Emma goes to get changed forward. Thanks for all the support! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=4aKteL3vMvU

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

 _"_ _Brother?"_

It was like the world had started moving in slow motion. Killian kept so still Emma wasn't sure if he hadn't turned to stone while the man who had spoken mirrored the position. Emma sat at the piano, waring between the idea of running off the stage and starting to pound the keys just so something would happen. The audience was quiet, trying to decide if this was a staged appearance of if the shock on everyone's faces was real. It was. Oh, it had never been so real.

Killian opened his mouth and "Liam?" came out in a hushed rush. With the name out in the world it was as if someone had his the fast forward button on a remote and everything returned to regular speed, high colour, panic.

Ruby moved first, Granny and Mulan acting just after. Mulan took little Liam's hand and led him out of the auditorium using the isle that wasn't being occupied by his potential step-brother, off to both protect the boy and monitor the donations box outside the concert hall. Granny stood, swelling up to her full height and pulling up an intimidating look and went for older Liam. Ruby turned to Emma and hissed for her to distract the audience before bodily pulling Killian, face pale, eyes wide off the stage.

Emma's mind whirled. She wanted to go after Killian. He would need her support right? Having his brother back wouldn't render her obsolete, right? Emma shook herself from the dark path her thoughts were taking her. Little Liam, Emma needed to look after him too, protect his innocent heart. The last place she should have been was on stage, surrounded by flowers and fairy lights.

In the crowd people started to get up and talk, fragments of conversations about what was going on, about going to find the woman who'd left with one of the Jones brothers, drifted up to Emma. That couldn't happen. They would interfere with what was going on with the (three?) brothers. Originally she was going to play a shorter English folk song and sing along but that wasn't going to be enough to keep them all in their seats. She needed to find a way to distract them. Something fast. Something long. Something challenging.

Something more than she'd practiced. Something she hadn't believed she was capable of. Something she'd not played for years was the only answer apart from setting the entire piano a blaze and evacuating the building. Emma took a deep breath, mentally searching for the notes she would play. She was a music prodigy. She could totally do this. Emma took another deep breath before turning back to the piano and starting to play Stravinsky's twelve-minute-long _The Firebird._

Ten seconds into playing the crowd silenced and sat back down. But Emma couldn't focus on that. She needed to make sure her fingers kept moving in the right order, sailing across the keys. Emma could feel sweat beading on her forehead as she played, the stage lights feeling suddenly too hot. As a child Emma would never have been allowed on stage without practicing something for hours before hand. And yet here she was, relying only on her memory. Oh, how times have changed. In a way it felt like flashing the bird to her absent parents.

Emma drew the song to a close. As she'd hoped, everyone had stayed in their seats, watching her with rapt attention. She paused for a moment before standing and bowing deeply. The auditorium once again erupted in applause. Emma glanced towards the side of the stage but now no one was waiting for her. No one was waiting for her with a rose. Killian had found a more important person in his brother.

Emma knew it was slightly childish to be upset that Killian hadn't waited for her, that he'd gotten swept up with the older Liam. But just before the concert he'd said he loved her. She'd told him that she loved him. And it hadn't been enough. It hadn't been strong enough to keep him there. Emma fought hard to try not to draw out the similarities between her parents leaving her and Killian but her mind, so used to going to the worst, not yet used to the healing she'd been trying to do, went right back to feeling unloved. Once again she was just a placeholder until something better, something newer, came along.

Emma counted to thirty in her head, fighting the tears, as she watched people start to leave the auditorium. She waited, hoping someone would come out, see her, congratulate her on her first concert in years, for getting over her hate of music but no one did. Everyone she loved seemed to be focused on the appearance of Liam.

Maybe Liam doesn't think the broken girl that she is, the one who's only now being knit together with piano wire is good enough for his brother after the shit he went through. She probably wasn't. But it was nice to pretend for a while.

A little head poked into the quickly emptying auditorium. Little Liam grinned at her, waving and Emma moved down the stairs of the stage to the carpeted aisle. "Emmy!" he hollered, running up the aisle at her. "You did so good!"

Emma swallowed the emotions she'd been fighting and jumped off the stage, squatting down to hug the boy who'd always thought she was enough, even when she couldn't play _Chopsticks_ for him. Liam barreled into her, trusting Emma to have braced herself enough not to tumble backwards. She swayed a bit on her heels but otherwise returned Liam's hug just as fiercely.

"Thanks, Liam," she replied, smiling as Liam squeezed her tighter.

Mulan stepped into the auditorium, eyes frantically searching for the high energy boy. Emma raised a hand at her to show she'd caught him. "Is he okay with you?" Mulan asked. "Ruby wants him out here for a little while longer." _A little while longer away from his newly appeared brother._ The one no one was really sure about.

Emma was sure about the boy though. She was sure she wanted to protect this wonderful little boy. No one had wanted to say it but there had always been the chance that Liam wouldn't want the little one, the replacement, only wanting to keep the brother he knew. Killian seemed like a no brainer, judging by the reaction of his brother during the show. But Little Liam was still an unknown.

If Older Liam wouldn't take them both, only wanted the brother he knew, Emma would fight to get Granny to take in the boy. She wouldn't ever let him feel like her, a replacement until a newer model came along. Liam deserved good and stable and love. More than Emma could ever give him but she'd try her damndest not to have another version of her, jaded and alone, in the world.

"Sure," she yelled back to Mulan who ducked out to continue monitoring the lobby. Emma pulled back, taking Liam's hand instead of holding him in a hug. She found herself desperately wishing that he'd never grow out of the sweet innocence he'd managed to hold onto amidst the abuse he'd withstood. "Do you still want me to teach you _Chopsticks?"_ Emma asked, smiling when Liam grinned back and nodded.

Emma led Liam up to the piano, settling him in the center of the bench. She points out middle C first and Liam nods solemnly, as if recognizing that Emma teaching him piano was. Emma then settled next to Liam, half sitting on the bench and took his slender hand, placing a finger on G.

"Okay, Liam, you know how the song goes right?"

Liam nodded and started pressing the key in the beat. Emma grinned and placed her left hand on the keyboard, starting the cleft notes. Liam whooped in glee when he was able to make out the proper _Chopsticks_ melody. Emma snaked her hand around his back and grabbed his hand, seamlessly moving up a few keys to keep the song going. She kept her hand there, moving it down once before back up again. Once she'd brought Liam back to G she told him to keep his hand there and keep up the rhythm. With both her own hands Emma started to play, a series of notes off the top of her head that had her fingers flitting across the keys below Liam's.

"We're musicians!" Liam laughed despite looking very seriously down at the keys, as the music swirled around them.

Emma huffed out a breath of emotion. A few months before she'd found herself crying because she couldn't even go near the piano to play what Liam wanted and here she was now, playing with the same boy as he laughed. In the sounds that came from Liam she heard that same joy Emma found from music, the same feeling of falling into play while at the same time flying high above the problems in life trying to grab at her ankles and hold her against the ground. In the sounds Emma heard herself had she been a more resilient person, less scarred by her parents' abandonment and it sounded good. It sounded right to be able to allow someone else to make those sounds after being abused and abandoned.

After a little while Emma's hands started to cramp from all the playing and she brought the song to a close. It had been about twenty minutes since older Liam had shown up and Killian had been pulled back stage.

"Can we go see Killy now?" Liam asked, sliding off the bench. He held his hand out for Emma and in his eyes Emma saw the uncertainty that had been beaten back for a bit by the piano. Older Liam was only Little Liam's step brother and the boy recognized that.

Emma bent to the boy. After hearing his laugh and seeing his joy and building fear, Liam needed to know what she hadn't. "Liam, whatever happens, listen to me now, okay?" Liam nodded, watching her with those big blue eyes that seemed to be a trait of all the Jones boys. They were too much like Killian, too close to reminding her that she may have been replaced. Emma fought against the desire to slam her fingers in the protective cover for the piano keys and instead concentrated on Liam. "Liam, you are so loved. I love you. Granny loves you. Killian loves you so, so much. But Killian's been though a lot in his life. He needs an older brother now too, just like you. Killian's tired of having to be a parent. Killian wants to be a brother. And his older brother needs Killian. That doesn't mean Killian loves you any less. Or wants you in his life any less, okay? You're always going to be loved. But if Liam can only look after one of you and he choses Killian I need you to know something, okay?" Liam nodded, eyes wide and shining with tears. Emma swallowed against the lump in her throat, wishing someone had said this to her instead of leaving her with practical strangers, trusting that she'd somehow come to love them. "If your brother can't take you with him, you'll come live with me and Granny. We'll be your family. We'll love you and help you grow. You'll never be alone. Okay?"

Liam considered her words for a moment. "If I come live with you, will you teach me to play the piano?"

Emma barked out a wet laugh before nodding. "Of course I will."

"Okay. I'll live with you and Granny if I can't go with Killian. That's okay. Granny makes good cookies. But," Liam looked down at his polished dress shoes, "can I go see my brother now? Find out what's happening?"

Emma nodded and stood, knees protesting after being in such an uncomfortable crouch, and on heels no less. Liam kept a hold of Emma's hand and allowed her to lead him backstage. They wandered through the cement hallway, the cold seeping into Emma's bare skin, chilling her and worrying her. But she forced herself tall, strong, for Liam. Emma was used to being replaced. She could probably handle it again. But she needed to make sure that Liam knew he'd never be left.

Emma found the door to her dressing room ajar, light spilling out into the dim hallway. Soft voices, lilting with British accents, filtered out to greet them. Emma reached a shaking hand forward and knocked before pushing open the door.

Older Liam was sitting on the chair while Granny stood in front of him, hands on her hips. Killian leaned against the wall next to his brother, a bright joy on his face. When Emma stepped into the room Killian jumped up, startled, as if shaken from a good dream and Emma's stomach plummeted with the knowledge that she'd been forgotten.

She tried not to take that personally.

She knew she was being selfish.

Petty.

But it was hard.

"Liam!" Killian exclaimed, crossing the floor to his brother and Emma. "I need you to meet some people. This," he said taking his brother from Emma. She felt bereft. Alone with no small hand to anchor her to the world. "Is Lee, our younger brother. Lee's ten, very smart and far more charming than either of us." Older Liam stood, setting his uniform cap on the dressing room counter, and moved to his younger brother.

The Navy officer put out his hand for Liam to shake, which the little boy did, looking up in wonder at the man. It was impossible not to see the sibling relationship. They had the same blue eyes and, while Little Liam had the darker hair colour of Killian, he had the same curls that his oldest brother did. They all had the same square shoulders, albeit, the younger two of the brothers were skinnier from lack of proper food. And when the older Liam's face split into a grin, it was also obvious that the soft joy that radiated from the grin was a family trait as well.

"Hello, lad. It seems we share the same name."

"You can call me Lee," Liam answered, letting go of his brother's large hand. "Killy does."

Liam nodded solemnly, as if that information was as important to him as the nuclear launch code was to the President. "Alright, lad. I'll do just that."

"And this," Killian said, drawing attention back to himself, "is my girlfriend, Emma Swan." Killian came over and put his arm around Emma's waist, pulling her closer. Killian pressed a tiny kiss against her temple, his smile able to be felt as it pulled across her skin. Inside Emma warred between relief that he had not completely forgotten about her, and a desire to run, just in case. But, before she could decide, Older Liam strode forward and shook her hand as well.

"I'm sorry for disrupting your concert," Liam said with a sheepish grin, hand going behind his ear to scratch in a movement that reminded her of Killian enough to feel like a punch to her gut.

"No problem," Emma replied, shrugging out of Killian's grasp and pretending to go to the counter to slip out of her heels and into her other shoes. But really she just needed space. Killian was too busy beaming at both his brothers to notice her distress. Granny did though, clearing her throat to bring attention back to her.

"Alright, now that the introductions are over, what's going on here? What are your intentions with my boys?"

Older Liam looked like he was fighting a smile at Granny's tough words that sounded a bit like a father asking about a man's intentions for his daughter, but straightened and faced her. "I've been looking for my brothers for a long time, ma'am. Of course I only knew I had one, but finding another," he motioned to Little Liam who had moved over to hold on to Granny's hand, "is a blessing. I lost them once, for ten years. I had been searching for so long that I almost didn't believe a friend of mine who was in the audience when he texted me to get down here immediately. There's been a million false alarms, a million close calls with no forwarding addresses. It was why I moved to the States and joined the Navy. I could travel, search, and still have a job and house if I ever found them. If I'd only known what my father had put them through-" Liam broke off, rage filling his gaze for a moment before he was able to wrestle it back down. "I can't thank you enough, Emma, for holding this concert for them. Without you I'd never have found them." Emma looked down, embarrassed. She could feel Killian's gaze on her but she didn't look up at him.

"Will you take me, too?" Little Liam piped up.

"Of course," Older Liam answered as if he couldn't believe Liam had ever wondered that. Older Liam turned his attention back to Granny. "I want to take over guardianship of both my brothers. As soon as I possibly can."

"That will be Monday," Granny answered, all business. "The case worker won't be back into until then. Liam will have to go back with Ingrid for Saturday night because I've only permission to take him out of state until tomorrow morning."

"And Killian?"

"I've got guardianship over him." Granny raised a brow, measuring if Liam would fight for his brother.

"I'll give you my phone number, the number to my commander, hell, I'll even send you my entire naval file and bank statement, if that will help convince you I'll be a good caretaker," Liam replied immediately. Though Granny didn't smile, Emma could tell she was pleased with the answer. "I live near good schools and universities. I have health insurance and a steady job with a house just off the Base in a good neighbourhood. I just want my brothers back with me where they belong."

Granny was silent for a moment, eyes raking over Liam. "Then you will get them back."

Liam grinned, face splitting. His eyes welled up, shining bright in the artificial light. But he didn't cry. Instead he rushed to Killian and held his hand out for Little Liam, waiting until his youngest brother came forward. Older Liam crushed both of them in a hug.

Emma looked away, awkward. "I'm going to go get changed," she mumbled, gathering up her casual clothes and slipping out of the door. She moved silently down the hallway, finding an open dressing room and went in, shutting and locking the door.

Seeing the brothers together, Emma knew she couldn't keep Killian. Or Little Liam. The love the oldest brother immediately had for his namesake told her he'd never leave Little Liam behind. They'd both go to live with Older Liam. In Boston. Four hours away from where Emma lived. She'd never really thought about that before. She'd just focused on finding Liam, not where they would find him. Even if she hadn't been a placeholder for Killian, this relationship wouldn't work now. Emma would be back alone.

But not totally alone. Not now that she had music again.

Just without the touch of Killian, without the quiet support and overwhelming strength. The love.

It was all Emma could do not to cry as she slid her dress off and changed. She would at least have a few days to say goodbye and make peace with it before Killian left for good. She wouldn't make a scene today and ruin the reunion. She could be strong.

Emma slid her fingers under her eyes to pick up any residual dampness that may have slid from her eyes without her permission. There was a knock on the door and Emma went to open it. Killian stood there, the rose he'd had before his older brother arrived back in his hand.

"I'm sorry I didn't give this to you sooner," he said, pressing it into her hand.

Emma did her very best to smile, bringing the rose up to her nose to sniff so the petals would hide her wobbling lip.

"Thank you," she answered when she'd pulled herself together again.

"The concert was amazing, love," he told her, taking her free hand and pulling her close. She allowed him to pull her in, allowed herself to rest against his warm, solid body. "No one has ever did such a wonderful thing for me." Emma nodded against his chest, peering up at him through her lashes. "And the ending-" Killian trailed off, a happy smile pulling at his lips. Emma closed her eyes, stomach clenching too much at the sight of his joy and what that meant.

"Emma," Killian started again, tone one that made her open her eyes. He bent and kissed her, soft, gentle, quick. "I came to tell you that Granny gave Liam permission to take Lee and I to his place for the night."

"Oh," Emma answered, soft and more broken than she wanted. For the night. Not forever. Emma steeled herself and repeated the words over and over again.

"But this won't be like your parents, love. This isn't that kind of goodbye." Emma could almost believe him with the conviction in his words. "I'm not leaving you. I meant it when I said I love you."

"I love you too," she answered quietly, pulling out of his embrace. It was too much to be against him. She wouldn't have been able to let him go.

"See you in the morning? I'll bring you one of those donuts named after animal feet you like?"

Emma nodded, a small smile breaking through the sadness. _For the night. Not forever. Not like her parents._ Killian gave her another smile before turning and leaving her in the dressing room, his voice loud when he met his brothers in the hallway.

Emma went back to the hotel with Granny. Ruby met them there, telling her they'd raised just under five thousand dollars for the brothers, presenting Emma the cash in an overflowing box. "Legal fees and to feed the boys," Emma replied, when Ruby had asked what Emma wanted to do with the case now that they didn't need a PI. But Emma didn't want it. She'd done the benefit to raise money for the Jones Brothers and they would have it, even if they just spent it on bread and cable tv. It would make Older Liam's life easier now that he had two more lives to feed and a guardianship agreement to transfer into his own name.

Ruby stayed that night, sharing the bed with Emma while Granny slept in the other. They seemed to pick up on Emma's lingering sadness, the reality that she only had a few days left with the boys who had wormed their way into her life and heart. She fell asleep to Ruby's quiet breathing, Granny's snores and her own mantra of _for the night. Not forever. Not like her parents._

When Emma woke up the next morning it was to Little Liam bouncing on her bed. Granny and Ruby both watched her with sad and apprehensive eyes. Older Liam had called Granny earlier and convinced her to let Killian stay with him for a few more days, get to know his brother again until they arrived on Monday to pick up Little Liam at Ingrid's and finalize the legal guardianship agreement transfer. Killian hadn't even come up with Liam as he dropped the youngest Jones off at the room, apparently ashamed at leaving Granny and Emma after all they'd done for him, but needing to spend the time with his brother more. Scared to say a proper goodbye, as if Emma would convince him to stay.

Emma went back to Storybrooke and the little apartment without the man who'd told her the day before he loved her and wasn't leaving forever. Once again she felt alone and replaced.

 _It was exactly like her parents._


	24. Cinderella's Waltz - Prokofiev

_A/N:_ Thank you all for your responses on the last chapter! It blew me away! And remember: in the show, at the beginning, Killian was very selfish in his actions but he came around! Keep that in mind and don't worry. Only one more chapter after this and then the epilogue. I chose this song for the chapter because I feel like we've seen Emma start transforming from a hurt girl to someone strong and determined and this chapter really completes that growth in my opinion and this is a classical ballet song, another really important element to this chapter. Thanks for all the support, views, reviews, favourites and follows! Let me know what you think of this! Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=YOV7yWEv54o

Warning: This chapter mentions self-harm and abuse.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Sunday found Emma back to the routine she'd gotten used to over her years at Granny's. A dull monotony that used to be comforting but now stung with the absence of what she wanted. What she'd had a taste off before being pulled away by a British naval officer. Emma woke around seven, showered, changed, found her phone empty of texts and went down to the Diner to get breakfast then work. Emma tried not to be any more upset at her situation than than what she normally was. After all, she'd spent eight years dealing with abandonment- what was a few more days and another person. But waking up in that hotel room to Little Liam but no Killian- that was the hardest thing she'd had to deal with in years. That kind of pain didn't dissipate easily.

One more person she wasn't good enough for.

Emma didn't know why she kept being surprised that she wasn't good enough for the people who promised they loved her. It was like she was incapable of learning. Emma had started to let herself believe that it was her parents fault that she'd been abandoned, not her own. But now- three very different people leaving her at two different times? There was only one constant between the two of them and that was Emma and all her shortcomings. Ones she wasn't even totally sure what they were.

And just like with her parents she hadn't heard a word from Killian since the concert. Saturday Granny had dropped Liam off with Ingrid and taken her home, quiet and sullen. And alone. Emma didn't even have Liam's energy to distract her as she had on the ride back, leaving her feeling jealous and then guilty that she was angry she didn't get to keep him in her life. The boy had gotten exactly what she'd wanted for him. She had no right to be upset about that when she'd spent so much of her life wishing for someone to give her, her family back as well. At least one of them were living her dreams.

But there was one thing different now. Now she had her music. That beautiful gift she'd lost, or hidden from herself, for so many years. That knowledge was the only thing that kept her from breaking down the minute she walked into the empty house, seeing Killian's book bag sitting on the floor by the couch, left there and expecting him to return. The only thing that had saved her was her ability to throw herself at the piano, pull out the most complicated piece of sheet music she had stored away and work through it until she started to sweat and her fingers started to cramp. Now, when she felt the urge to self-harm, the urge to slit the tips of her fingers with the sharpest kitchen knife the Diner had, instead of giving in, she went to her piano and played. For hours. Craving the touch of the ivory under her fingers just as much as she craved the feel of Killian's rough hand on her back. Needing to hear the clear tone of the notes as much as she needed to hear the lilt of his voice as he greeted her after returning from school. But she only got one of those things. She was only going to ever get one of those things again.

She might as well take what she could get and make the best of it.

Emma had spent the rest of Saturday after arriving back at Storybrooke pounding away Beethoven's angriest symphonies. Granny had had to pull her away once, scared she was going to snap a wire inside the instrument or push the piano through the floor with the pressure she was putting on the keys. Eventually Emma had gone back and played something softer, sadder, forcing herself to get the emotion out through music rather than cry at the piano. No tears. The people who continued to leave her had gotten enough of her tears.

She still had her music and she still had Granny. She needed to remember how lucky she was for that. Especially since Granny didn't care when Emma took breaks in her shift, slipping upstairs to pound at the keys when a little boy who looked like Liam walked in, or she served a British tourist, just passing through town.

Emma had her back to the Diner counter as she polished dry the glasses that had just come out of the industrial dishwasher in the back. At one time she would have relished the sting of the hot glass but now it just frustrated her and reminded her of the man who'd somehow, without really saying anything, that she didn't have to hurt herself to feel something, to protect her heart from music and her parents. The only thing that stopped Emma from throwing the glass and shattering it was the crowd of people behind her.

Granny would not be pleased if she made a spectacle of herself and gave the gossiping townsfolk more fodder for the canons. Emma set the glass down behind her as she heard someone slip onto the stool at the counter, right across from her.

"What can I get for you?" Emma asked without turning around, instead setting down the glass and grabbing a new one. She was in too sour a mood from the direction her thoughts had gone towards to deal with being pleasant at that moment.

"Coffee for me and whatever you'd like for yourself," an unfamiliar male voice answered. Emma whirled, eyebrow arching in confusion until she saw the old man sitting at the counter, looking quite pleased with himself. "Hello, Emma."

Emma stilled, brain whizzing for a way to place the man. He seemed familiar in a way that she'd seen his face multiple times before but maybe years prior or potentially never actually in person.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, raising a single long digit into the air in a questioning motion. It was the finger of a piano player.

It all clicked into place then. The man staring at her was Marco Booth, the older principle pianist of the Boston Ballet. Emma had seen his face when she'd flicked through the site months prior. She'd heard him play when she was a child. The man was a virtuoso, talented in a way that he could have played for fancier ballet companies or toured as a concert pianist. But he'd started in Boston as a young man and stayed until now, when apparently he'd arrived in Storybrooke, a man about sixty who was looking very curiously at Emma.

Questions raged through Emma's head. How did he know who she was? How had he found her? What did he want from her? Did she actually want to know the answer to any of those questions?

"You do know who I am?" Marco asked, growing a little concerned that his ambush surprise might not have worked.

Emma nodded, clamouring for her voice. "Yes, but, if I may ask, why are you here?"

Marco smiled, pleased that she knew him. "You get my coffee and something for yourself, my treat, and we'll have a chat, alright?"

Emma was wary, unsure if she wanted to go, but curiosity quickly got the better of her and found her pouring a coffee into one of the newly cleaned mugs followed by doing herself up a mug of hot cocoa with cinnamon. If anything, at least she'd get to spend some time with someone who'd been a bit of an idol to her as a child. She set the mug down in front of him before moving around the counter and settling on her own stool, one empty seat separating them as if that could keep anything potentially painful from her like a castle's moat.

Emma stared at Marco for a while, watching as he slowly sipped at his coffee, smiling at her behind the lip of the ceramic mug. She wasn't quite sure what was entertaining him so much and it was putting her on edge.

"This is amazing coffee," Marco finally said, breaking the silence that had been growing between them.

Emma shrugged to acknowledge the compliment. "I highly doubt it was good enough to make you drive four hours to get it."

Marco set down his cup and Emma got the distinct feeling that he was about to start talking business. "No. But you are."

She was? How did Marco even know who she was let alone know the value of whatever quality he seemed most interested in? Emma figured he was talking about music but it didn't make a lot of sense for him to be so interested in someone who'd disappeared from the scene for years and only appeared again with a very strange concert. She wasn't worth the time he had already spent on her. She hadn't been in years.

"I see you don't believe me," Marco continued on, watching her emotions play across her face. Emma fought to tamp them down behind her walls but being left by Killian seemed to have thrown her abilities off.

"There's a lot I don't believe about this," Emma replied, trying to sound indifferent. It was a bit easier than she expected because actually she didn't know how to feel. Did she want Marco to like her? Did she just want to run back to her apartment and pound on the piano as Marco left, the notes of her practice loud and brutal enough to really convince him that she wasn't worth his time.

"Shall I start from the beginning then?" Marco asked. Emma gave him another shrug which Marco took as a yes. "A very determined young woman named Ruby showed up while I was working a week ago and wouldn't leave until I came out of the theatre to talk to her." Emma snorted while she decided whether she was going to need to thank Ruby or kill her for whatever she had done. "She told me that there was a concert coming up and that I was the worst musician on the planet if I missed this up-and-coming talent."

"I'm sorry she wasted your time and insulted you like that," Emma put in quickly, setting down her cup. She wished the floor would just swallow her whole and then transplant her next to Ruby so she could knock her upside the head. How _dare_ Ruby think Emma was worth this piano legend giving up his time to come see her. A no one with no future who was never good enough.

"It's fine," Marco replied with a good natured laugh, reaching forward and settling a thin and cool hand against her arm. Emma stilled, looking at him with confusion. "My darling, you seem to think quite little of yourself. I'll tell you this now, even though it may mean nothing to you. I don't waste my time. I wanted to go hear this concert pianist that woman talked about. And it was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Now, because I do not like to waste my time, tell me now- are you interested in hearing what I have to say to you or are you going to stay hidden inside the cage the world built you and think I'm lying? Think carefully now."

Emma watched Marco carefully, processing what had just been said to her. The pianist had pretty much told her she was good, good enough to make his time worthwhile. _One of the best decisions I've ever made._ Emma wasn't sure if she could- should- believe that. But why would he say that if he didn't mean it? If Marco wanted to talk music there would have been a hundred qualified that were closer than Emma was and yet he'd driven out to Storybrooke to try and find her and talk to her. For some strange reason Marco seemed to think she was special.

Maybe it would do her self-confidence good to hear why he thought that.

Maybe she owed it to herself to find out why.

"Okay," she finally said, startled to see Marco's grin appear suddenly, like he'd been desperately wanting her to agree but not really holding onto the hope.

"Now that is a wonderful response," Marco mused, taking another sip of his coffee. "I'm going to talk and I don't want you to interrupt me with no or corrections that you aren't what I say you are." Emma nodded after Marco stopped and stared at her expectantly. What had she gotten herself into?

"Emma, I'm an old man. And I'm not getting any younger. I'm leaving the ballet company in four years. You may be wondering why I'm telling you this when it's so far away and you don't really know me?" Emma nodded. "Well, Emma, when I leave I need to be replaced."

Emma's heart sped up. Was he actually hinting at what Emma thought he was? Was he considering her for his replacement? No. No. She wasn't that good. She wasn't even going to music school next year. She wasn't doing anything.

"When I went to that concert I was expecting a good show. I wasn't expecting _you._ I wasn't expecting to see someone who couldn't just play the piano proficiently, but who also was the music. The moment you started playing I knew. You, my darling, are a once in a lifetime talent." Emma looked down, blushing despite the large part of her that didn't believe it. "That laugh," Marco grinned, ignoring her reaction to his words, remembering Emma's reaction to playing music again on stage. "For many people, when they play those symphonies and sonatas, the music is dead, just ink of paper and a series of presses of keys. But for you, Emma, you are the music. It lives in you. Comes out like breath in a million different ways. I've never heard someone play quite as you do. Are you going to be going to music school?"

Emma shook her head, feeling so ashamed to admit to Marco that she had no plans and was too scared to do the one thing she wanted more than anything else. She knew in that shake of a head that she'd be kissing this opportunity good bye. Because who wanted someone who threw away her talent because she was scared?

"Oh, thank goodness," Marco exclaimed. Emma shot him a confused look. Marco had just told her how good he thought she was and now he was happy she wasn't continuing her education? She couldn't keep up and maybe it was best she didn't. When Marco saw how she'd deflated, pulling into herself he quickly leaned forward. "I don't mean that in a bad way, Emma. It's a relief to know someone else won't try to taint your skills with techniques your style doesn't need. It will keep you pure Emma."

"Oh," she replied, no more than a breath. She'd never really thought of not going to school being seen as a good thing. To her it had only ever been another reminder of her failure. Emma really didn't know what to make of Marco.

"I mean, you'll need to brush up on your technique and get the rust off," Marco continued diplomatically with a smile. "But I want to be the one to do that, to keep your spirit alive. So, Emma, I'm going to make you an offer now if you're willing to hear it?" Emma nodded after a long pause, trying her best to keep a close hold on her thoughts to keep them from jumping ahead of her. "I dedicated my entire life to this ballet company. When I leave I need to know that it's in good hands, that even if the style and emotions behind the music will be different, the music will still be alive. Because that's what dance is. Music in motion and Emma, my darling, your music _already_ is the dance. I want you to sign on with the company. I want you to start as a pianist for the corps practices since that is where all beginners start and work your way up. Four years, all under my tutelage. And when I leave, I want you to take my position. I want you to become the company's principal pianist. So what do you say?"

Emma looked at Marco in stunned silence. What did she say? Other than to scream that she couldn't handle it? That's he'd made a mistake. She wasn't all he said. She couldn't be. But oh, oh how she wanted it. More than breathing. Principal pianist at a ballet company- it had been her little girl dream. The one that even when she turned away from piano still held strong in the recesses of her mind, a temptation she was never, could never be, brave enough to reach for and consider out loud. And here was a man who'd been a practical stranger to her an hour previously offering it to her because he'd heard _one_ concert?

Hell, her parents, who were _greats_ , had spent years struggling before that European Orchestra called them up. Emma wasn't good enough to warrant such an offer so quickly. She could practically hear her mother's voice telling her _"you'll embarrass the family if you go. Your fingers are too clumsy now."_ As the words ran through her head, Emma realized that somewhere along the line the voice was no longer her mother's. It was now her own.

"I left music years ago," Emma started, voice soft, the fear and self-doubt stealing away her volume.

"Emma!" Granny called, interrupting any further conversation. Emma jumped, startled, turning to see Granny looking just this side of furious, standing a few feet away from her. "Come here, we need to talk."

"I'm busy," Emma answered, jerking her chin towards Marco who was watching Granny with an amused smile.

"Oh, I know." The tone Granny used brokered no argument. It screamed that she'd heard every word. The whole offer. And was going to put her two cents in whether Emma wanted it or not.

"Go talk to the lady," Marco said gently. "I'll wait."

Emma gave a world weary sigh and pushed herself off the stool, feeling very much like a petulant child about to be scolded for bad behaviour. Emma followed Granny down the hall and into the office, waiting by the door as Granny went and sat at the desk.

"Emma Swan, you tell me right now why you're turning down your dream job?"

Emma balked at Granny. Granny knew why. She knew Emma had given up her music. Why was that even a question at that point?

"You know why," Emma whispered.

"No, actually I don't." Granny shook her head, exasperated. "I was at your concert Emma. I know how amazing you can play. I know you can do the job. That man out there hunted you down to offer you the job when there are hundreds of others probably knocking down his door for an audition."

"Then one of them can have it."

"But _why?"_

"Why? _Why?"_ Emma asked, voice rising. "Why? Because they want it more."

"We both know that's not true." Emma huffed out an angry breath.

"They deserve it more."

"Wrong. Try again." Granny raised a challenging brow.

Emma deflated, running out of lies. She sucked in a deep breath. "Because, this offer was something my parents could only dream about and they think I'm shitty. What if I'm actually better than them?" Emma could feel the tears coming and she brushed at them, angry. Being better than her parents could be a very dangerous thing.

"What if being better at them makes you them but even more?"

Emma nodded. "I promised myself I'd never leave you or Ruby. You're the only two people who've never left me. I need to repay you for that."

Granny stood and came towards Emma. "Emma, raising you has been just as big a joy as raising Ruby. You are both my granddaughters and while your parents deserve to be introduced to the pointy end of my crossbow, I'm so thankful they left you with me. I'm not afraid for you to move away and take this job because to me, family is a very different thing than it is to your parents and let's face it, Emma, I've done far more raising of you than your parents ever did. That leads me to believe, and hope, that you're more me than them and because of that, I know you'll never abandon me, no matter where you travel in the world. Emma, you're a beautiful young lady. I've seen so much growth in the last year for you and saw that wonderful light come back when you started playing again. It was something I never thought would happen. I saw your performance. I know how talented you are. More importantly, I know how much you _love_ music. You want this position. I know you, sweetheart. And if I'm the only thing holding you back, well, I'll kick you out the minute you graduate so you have to go to Boston." Granny's smile lessened the blow of the words. "Just do what you love Emma. That will repay me more than you waitressing for the next forty years ever could. That's all I want from you, my beautiful granddaughter."

Emma considered her words before launching herself at Granny. Granny caught her with a brisk tsk, wrapping her arms around Emma in the first hug she'd ever gotten from the broken girl. Granny had given Emma permission to do what she loved. Wanted her to do it. And she thought of Emma as her granddaughter. _Family._ The only thing Emma had ever wanted more than music. The thing she'd so often thought she'd never have. But really, she'd had it all along. And she was sure as hell going to do everything in her power to be like Granny instead of the people she'd always feared to become. Being like Granny would be a blessing.

Emma pulled back and dried the tears that had escaped down her cheeks. "What if I can't do it?" she whispered, voicing that last fear. Needing that last answer.

Granny raised a brow and shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

Emma gave Granny a firm nod before turning and moving back into the Diner. Marco watched her as she approached, curiosity pulling at his brows. When Emma reached him, she spoke in a rush.

"I'd like to go for a trial. Two weeks. You don't have to pay me. If I can do it, I stay and take the job. If I can't, I come back here and you find someone else. The end."

Marco pretended to consider her offer before a grin pulled up his cheeks. "I can work with that."

When Marco left a few minutes later, after getting Emma's contacts and ironing out detail, Emma found herself standing in the middle of the Diner, processing what had just happened. She'd agreed to try and work as a pianist for the Boston Ballet Company.

 _Boston._

The realization hit Emma like a bat to the stomach. Killian lived in Boston now. She hadn't even considered that when she took the job. Not that it should matter since he didn't seem to care about her. But Little Liam was also there, the memories of his bright smile sending a shot of sadness through her at the thought. She missed that little boy so much. Emma had finally realized she had her adopted family in Granny and Ruby, even though there was no paperwork to prove it, and maybe, if the boy was amenable, he could join her little group as well. Maybe, when it came to the Jones brothers, she hadn't actually lost everything.

Maybe, things were just beginning for Emma.


	25. The Words - Christina Perri

_A/N:_ Hope no one's upset I'm back early. I've been having a sad night- since I moved home to take a job for the summer I'm not near any of my friends, especially a very special and handsome one, and I'm missing them a lot and on top of that my family members also went out to places I wasn't invited so I'm alone babysitting the puppy because everyone knows I have no plans. But I've still got my writing which was why I got this AND the epilogue done tonight, nearly a week ahead of schedule! So I thought I'd put it up now because I'm too excited. I felt a lot of pressure writing this chapter because, one, it's the last before the epilogue and two, people were pretty fired up about Killian. I hope I've done it all justice. The epilogue will go up tomorrow night most likely and I'll say my long thank yous then and let you in on my plans for my next two AUs. So for now, a quick thank you for all the support, it's been amazing! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Song: watch?v=B9tc9R_Y3FY

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of abuse and self-harm.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

For the next week Emma's life went back to normal- or at least she pretended that it did. Emma didn't tell anyone about the concert and especially not the offer Marco gave her. She felt the pang of guilt for that decision when Mary Margaret greeted her Monday morning, worrying about how Emma was, but in all honestly, Mary Margaret couldn't keep a secret to save her life and Emma refused to let the school find out what she'd done and think it was because of them. This offer was for Emma and her alone. And then there was the overwhelming absence that she tried to ignore, tried to fill with the mountains of homework she'd missed and extra shifts at the diner to make some money for Boston. She knew she needed to be mad at the man with the shaggy black hair for not even saying goodbye before no longer sitting just behind her in history or whispering words to her as they passed in the hall. But the anger never really came, it was just sadness.

Sadness because she'd no longer see that gentle smile that showed up against all odds when he saw her.

Sadness because she'd lost her first love.

Overwhelming and numbing. Cold and painful.

How did she go back to being alone after making Killian a home in her heart? The rhythm of her heartbeat that kept a steady thrum under the music of Tchaikovsky that seemed to be all that kept her going since waking up without him?

For once in her life Emma wasn't content anymore with covering the absence with anger and self-harm. For once she wanted a damn explanation. She _deserved_ a damn explanation. And what made her so angry was that Killian knew that. He knew what she'd gone through with her parents. He knew she'd spent eight years dealing with intense abandonment issues, given up her music because of how much they'd screwed her over. And yet he'd done the same thing.

Maybe she'd be brave enough to show up at his place when she arrived in Boston, plant herself on the doorstep and refuse to leave until Killian fessed up to why he was such a coward.

And then she would go to play piano for the Boston Ballet because at least now she'd always have music. Her parents had taken music from her. Emma was determined not to let Killian steal it too.

Emma pushed back from her piano, settling the cover down over the keys. Granny would be annoyed if she spent any longer up in the apartment working through a movement from the ballet _Giselle_ when she was supposed to be working. But it was like an addiction. Emma craved the keys, craved the melody, like an alcoholic who'd been sober for years and then had one really, _really_ good drink and all the abstinence was out the window. At least Granny was good natured about it, infinitely pleased that Emma was playing again. Smiling again- or at least trying to so long as she didn't remember Killian.

Pulling on her work apron from where she'd thrown it over the couch arm, Emma hurried down the stairs, right into the Diner, the sounds of plates clacking and too loud conversations a stark contrast from the swooping melodies that had filled the apartment just before. Granny came out of the kitchen as she hurried down the hallway, handing her a plate with lasagna and fries, with a good natured smile.

"Table six." Emma centred the plate on her palm with a nod. "You're sounding good," Granny commented as Emma backed out of the hallway, into the main Diner.

"It's coming. Second movement's still too choppy," Emma answered with a shrug, the kind that wasn't self-depreciating but rather more of the wait for a week, I'll get it kind.

"I like you like this," Granny mused, making Emma blush.

"Me too," she replied quietly, turning and dropping the plate at the table of an older woman she vaguely recognized from one of Granny's church meetings. At least she wasn't going to be surprised by Marco and his strange ta-da ambushes again when she was working. The man promised he'd call from then on if he needed to meet.

The door to the Diner chimed open, coming with it a cool puff of wind, the last of the winter chill. Emma turned towards the sound to welcome the newcomer and stilled, glad she'd already put down the food.

Apparently it wasn't Marco's ta-das she needed to worry about.

Standing at the door, looking very unsure of himself, a small bouquet of buttercups clutched in his hand, was Killian. Wearing dark, _new,_ jeans. No patches. Killian. A dark navy dress shirt was open a few too many buttons, another article of clothing Emma didn't recognize. Killian. Hair cut so it was still long but now artfully so and not just because it was shaggy. Killian. Face with more colour than she'd ever seen before, though it was quickly draining from his skin. _Killian._

Killian looked good. Really good. Like finding Liam had given him a new lease on life. She could just imagine Older Liam taking one look at Killian's shabby wardrobe and messy hair and marching him to a mall to clean up. Emma could picture all the food Older Liam had piled onto their plates when he saw how skinny his younger brothers were. With a pang Emma realized that Killian looked far better now than he ever did when Emma was the one he was holding on to.

Her heart ached. Her feet twitched, wanting to run to him. Her fingers itched to run through the soft black hair. Her cheeks ached with the desire to act on the muscle memory and smile. But she didn't. She didn't do anything at all.

Because for all she'd missed him she was still mad.

 _Downright pissed._

"Shut the door," Granny hollered, coming out of the kitchen. She stilled, just like Emma had when she spotted who the door was balanced against. Killian stepped forward and the door shut with a final whoosh of cold air. "Well," she drawled, not sure what to make of her newest Diner guest. "Emma?" she asked after a long moment, hand going out to touch Emma's shoulder. Emma flinched away, unintentionally bringing her closer to Killian.

The Diner guests were starting to watch the strange interaction happening in the centre of the restaurant. Of course they would know who everyone was – Granny, the proprietor, Emma, the angry tortured girl and the new British boy who never said anything and whose little brother sometimes helped out in the kitchen. What they didn't seem to know was what part everyone played.

They didn't know that Granny had raised Emma after her parents traded in their roles for a lucrative series of orchestra concerts. Well, to be fair, word about that had probably gotten around to everyone since September, but they didn't know that Granny was her foster mother. That even when her parents were still her legal guardians they hadn't sent a single penny to help with Emma's expenses. They'd washed their hands of Emma the moment they got in the taxi.

The people staring at them didn't know that Emma had given up her music because of what happened to her. They didn't know she'd spent years trying to live up to expectations of her parents and then spent just as long battling with the idea that she hadn't been able to meet them so she'd become an orphan. They didn't know that she'd spent years self-harming and had only recently started to come out of the habit. They didn't know she'd started playing again, was going to Boston in July to play for The Boston Ballet Company. They didn't know how much that healing had to do with the man standing at the door and the old woman behind her.

The diners didn't know that man had spent years being abused by his only parent after the death of his mother. They didn't know what a protective streak he had in him for his younger brother and what a desire he had to find his older brother. They didn't know that Granny had taken care of him for a week after he'd been entered into foster care and that without her help he'd had ended up who knew where without any connection to Little Liam. They didn't know he'd said he loved Emma and then abandoned her when his brother came along, a better offer.

No, the people didn't know much. But Emma was starting to wonder if she knew much about Killian either.

Killian had promised to stay with her. They'd never said forever but the implications were there. Or maybe Emma had read too far into it? Maybe she'd jumped to conclusions when presented with the first person to get under her walls. But Killian _had_ told her he loved her. She hadn't made that up because she'd said it right back. And love meant he shouldn't just throw her away when his brother showed up. Emma knew that because her parents had never loved her and they'd done the same thing.

Why had Killian come back now? Why had he made the four-hour drive now when he could have said goodbye the day she left Boston and only travelled ten minutes? Emma wanted to know so badly but she couldn't force her mouth open to ask. She could only stare.

"Emma," Granny said after the silence had enveloped all the patrons and even the workers in the kitchen, "why don't you take our guest upstairs for a chat?"

It was like Emma was on autopilot. She didn't argue that she had a shift to finish, or that she was angry and didn't want to hear excuses. She didn't make any move to get Killian to follow. She just turned and marched into the back hallway and up the stairs. There was an element of satisfaction as she heard Killian's slow footsteps, boots crunching on the stairs. He sounded weary and upset.

A part of Emma was happy about that. Good. Killian deserved that.

But another part of her wanted to make it better. Thought that maybe if she made Killian feel better it would help her too? But he was going to have to work awfully hard before she acted on that desire.

Emma walked into the apartment, leaving the door open for Killian who was a few feet behind her and went into the living room. She glanced around the room before deciding to settle at the piano, feeling the comfort of the familiar wood bench seeping up her back. Of course, with Killian coming into the room she was also reminded of all the hours spent on said bench with his hand running up and down her back. Emma pushed the thought away.

Killian entered, still holding the little bouquet. There was more uncertainty for him in picking a spot, the space he'd gotten used to being next to Emma where he was _not_ welcome at the moment. After a long moment he sat on the couch, sinking into the dip in the middle.

After a terribly long moment of staring at each other Emma had had enough. She needed to break the silence or she was going to give up on the conversation all together, turn around to the keys and keep working on that _Giselle_ movement. Or she was going to scream in his face and all hope for a civil conversation would be gone.

"Liam's been good for you," Emma said slowly, motioning to his clothing with her hands, and proud of herself for keeping her voice so level and quiet.

Killian's hand came up and he scratched behind his ear, bouquet waving as his hand moved. Was he ever going to give her the flowers? Maybe he was scared to come near her that she'd hit him like that first day of school. "Aye," he replied sheepishly. "Liam wasn't pleased with the conditions we've been keeping. I said we were fine but he wants to take care of us."

Silence fell again. Despite her swirling feelings she was glad of it. Killian and his younger brother deserved someone to look out for them. Emma still vividly remembered Killian's response to Granny taking care of him. Now he'd have that regularly. Maybe he'd get to spend the next while being the teenager he'd never been able to become.

"Emma," Killian started, voice soft. Emma shook her head. She didn't want the tenderness. She needed blunt. An explanation. Something that wouldn't make her fall more in love with him before he left her for good.

"Just tell me why you're here," Emma cut in with a weary sigh, feeling the exhausting emotions weighing her down even more now. "My emotions can't handle anymore shit," Emma added with a vulnerable genuineness.

Killian at least had the decency to look ashamed. _Good._ "I made a mistake."

Emma snorted in disbelief. "That's hardly a good answer."

"As to why I'm here or why I left?" Emma raised a brow, not deigning him with a response. Killian sighed. "I guess that means I start at the beginning?" Emma kept watching him, fighting to keep her face completely blank. She used to be so good at it. Now it was a struggle. It was like returning to music had started bringing her emotions back as well. When Killian got no encouragement from her he once again scratched behind his ear. "Seeing Liam again," he started, voice quiet, "was one of the best moments of my life. There was a part of me that had thought I'd never find him again. It made me forget everything in that moment, really that whole night. And part of that was that I forgot what you'd gone through." Finally, the emotions broke through Emma's mask when he admitted to forgetting about her, a quick cringe creasing her face. Killian acknowledged it with a frown of his own.

"Look, Emma, I'm a selfish man." Emma snorted in disbelief. How was Killian, of all people, selfish? "It's true," Killian argued with conviction. "I kept Lee with me for ten years. Ten years of thinking I was protecting him from abuse but really, he was still exposed to it. Had I given him up he could have had a better life. You should hear him talk about Ingrid. I kept him from that because I couldn't bear to lose another brother. And then, when I thought I couldn't get anymore selfish, I left you. I knew what had happened to you. But I could only think about myself, and getting to spend that night with my brother. And then when I got it, I wanted more. So I begged Liam to let me stay with him. No matter what the cost," Killian's voice broke at the end. Emma felt something inside her soften but she still wasn't forgiving him.

"You didn't even say goodbye," Emma whispered, the softening inside allowing the words to come out before she could stop them.

Killian glanced down at his lap at her words. "I was ashamed. I knew what I was doing by the morning but I knew if I saw you I'd not go back with Liam until the law told me too. And I needed Liam. For once, I wanted to be the little brother."

"You hurt me."

Killian nodded, accepting her words and looking like she'd beaten him with a baseball bat. Again, Emma found a grim satisfaction in that, to know he was hurting the way she did. "I won't pretend I didn't. I knew what I was doing when the initial surprise at Liam's appearance went away. I know I promised you I'd never leave. I know what doing the concert meant to you and that it was because of what I needed. I was no better than some pirate, taking what I could and leaving destruction in my wake. I sickened myself with how selfish I was. Still am, really. If it's any consolation, I've missed you like I missed my hand when I lost it."

"It's not. Not really," Emma answered, though truthfully the hurt was lessening at being acknowledged. Her parents had never said anything about hurting her that last phone call. It had all been about them. At least while Killian was selfish, he recognized where she fit in. But how did she fit in _now?_ "Okay," Emma said slowly. "That was a week ago. Why are you here now? And why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Now Killian seemed to remember the bouquet in his hand. He stood and held it out to her, watching her. Emma saw it for what it was, a peace offering with the promise of more to come. She considered the flowers. She wanted to take the buttercups. She wanted to acknowledge that she was potentially forgiving him. But there was still that part of her that was afraid of getting hurt if she did. After another long moment Killian sat back down, flowers still in his hand. Emma only felt a little bad for the slight.

"One question at a time, eh love?" he asked. Emma's stomach twisted at the name. Had he come back because he loved her? "After you and Lee went back to Storybrooke I realized my life wasn't in Boston right now. So, I had a chat with Liam. Thankfully Liam only wants what's best for me and Lee and well, what's best isn't Boston."

"Wait," Emma cut in, fingers practically tingling with what she was pretty sure Killian was alluding too. "If that's not Boston-"

"It's here, Emma. In Storybrooke." Emma's heart sped up until she was pretty sure it was skipping beats. This wasn't just some thing he could surprise her with. Not if he wanted her not to lose control of her emotions.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Emma's voice came out sounding breathless and that annoyed her. "You didn't text or call? Hell, your brother's in the Navy, you could have sent something in Morse Code."

Killian snorted but quickly sobered. "I was scared you'd tell me not to come."

"What?" she gasped out. She had been desperate for Killian to say _something_ to her. This would have been a hell of a something but at least it was _something._

"I was scared you'd tell me to stay in Boston. I couldn't risk that because of what I'd asked of Liam. Somehow my brother loves me enough to leave his job in the Navy when I asked to come back here. He said it was fine, that he couldn't stay in the Navy with two younger brothers to look after. I just sped up his decision. It took us the week to close loose ends. Liam made us go to the doctor and dentist and barber and got us clothes that fit. He's put us on a diet to gain weight after the doctor said we were pretty close to malnourished," Killian bowed his head as he said that, clearly ashamed that he hadn't been able to look after his younger brother better. "After Liam sent in his letter to be discharged, he took the money you'd given us and used it to pay off the rent in Papa's house until the end of June. We can't stay here forever because Liam's getting a job with the Boston Harbour Patrol but we're going to finish out the school year. I'm sorry I can't stay with you for good here, but I bought us a few more months. I hope you want that as much as I do and that I haven't fucked things up too irreparably."

Killian huffed out a breath after his spiel. Emma sat on the bench, watching him and processing what he'd just said. Killian had convinced his brother to come back to Storybrooke for _her._ Emma. That was something her parents hadn't ever done. They'd never ended a contract to come back for her. Killian had convinced his brother to give up his job, essentially his whole life, because he wanted to come back for the girl he loved. Even if that meant just a few more months. Asking his brother could have made Liam angry, like Killian didn't actually want to be a part of his family. It could have screwed everything up. But Killian had done it anyways because he'd seen how selfish he'd been and realized that he needed Emma, just as much as he needed his brothers.

Emma hadn't expected such a sacrifice for her or opinion about her. First Marco and now Killian. It felt like all the times in the past few weeks where Emma had wondered about being the common link between abandonments. And now it felt like the opposite, like she was the common denominator between people making big gestures for her. Like she was worth it.

And Killian had no idea that she was also going to Boston in July. He'd convinced his brother to give it all up just for a few months, not even considering the possibility that there could ever be more.

Maybe there really could be more for the two of them.

"Why did you bring the flowers?"

Killian glanced at the buttercups, the stems a little crushed as he'd squeezed them in her hand. "Lee reminded me that I'd never taken you out on a date," he answered, ears turning bright pink. Emma tried to swallow her smile; she was trying to be strict. She wasn't ready for Killian to know how she was feeling about him. "The little lad told me you weren't my girlfriend until we went on a date. He found these in some poor lady's front window box in Boston just before we left and told me to give them to you when I came. I didn't have the heart to tell him you probably wanted nothing to do with me because I'm a right old git. But I said I'd try." Killian sat the flowers down on the coffee table, pushing them slightly towards her before standing. "I won't take up any more of your time then, love. Sorry to have bothered you, but I just needed to explain." With a final nod and sad smile Killian turned and walked away.

Emma reached forward and grabbed the buttercups, pulling them up to her face so she could look at them better. The thought of Little Liam hoisting them from some old lady's house made her laugh. The thought of his older brother swallowing his pride to come and make sure Emma understood, knew he felt terrible for his actions and didn't want to abandon her, made a warmth flow into her belly.

Emma wanted that feeling to continue. She didn't want to lose the warmth because she was stubborn or wanted to hold a grudge. Killian wasn't her parents. With that Emma realized her parents weren't any body but her genetic carriers anymore. They had given Emma her blonde hair and green eyes and musical talent but they hadn't raised her to have an all-consuming desire to keep her family intact, to appreciate those who love her. That family, the one she had made, was Granny and Ruby, Killian and Little Liam. Emma had spent years wanting family but without her noticing they'd found her. She wasn't about to lose half of them because she wouldn't forgive Killian.

Emma rushed to the door, throwing it open.

"When did you want to have that date?" she asked breathless, a timid smile forming on her lips as Killian turned to her from his spot halfway down the staircase.

"How about now, love?"

Emma nodded. Now was good.


	26. Dance of the Swans - Tchaikovsky

_A/N:_ Here it is, the epilogue. It's short and sweet and I hope it lives up to expectations. I know I didn't write the date the last chapter ended on but I think that's okay- you're imaginations will help you get it the way you want it. I couldn't live up to everyone's ideas of the perfect date. Skipping ahead four years also makes more sense for the sequel which picks up a couple of months after this scene. A few hints about the sequel, and I'd love it if you could let me know what you think- it's called In the Key of F (f standing for something important), will see the introduction of two "great" characters *wink wink, nudge nudge* and we'll see Emma and Killian growing up and battling some past demons as well as trying to fit those scars into their lives now. I'm excited. I'm going to take a few weeks off to get a head start writing and then when I get about seven chapters done I'll start posting again.

Also, I'm thinking about writing another AU at the same time that's a lot more grittier, like looks a modern take on Killian in his Hook personality with the drinking and the women and the danger in a way that's different than my other stories since I use Killian as ex-navy, which this will not be. I'm thinking maybe rockstar? But I have to play around with that as well because there's some great stories in that trope in the community, like The Lost Boys and I need to make sure I do something unique that's also decent. What do you all think? Darker Killian and a take no prisoners Emma who I think may be a cop?

And finally, I want to say thank you. So much. This fic has been emotional and at times exhausting to write because I try to commit to the characters and their emotions. I hope that makes it believeable. This fic was challenging but I loved every minute of it with you all here with me. Thank you for your favourites and follows, views and reviews. It makes it worth it! Let me know what you think about this chapter. Enjoy and much love to you all.

Song: watch?v=sd4VsbM4fOo

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the shows creators, Eddy and Adam.

 _Four years later._

The ballet studio was cool and dark, the only light the small lamp clipped to the top of the old piano, illuminating the sheet music. Emma swayed as she played, a bit from exhaustion, the rest because she was getting all the notes, all the feelings, right. _Finally._ In the circle of the melody the nerves drifted away, floating away on the pristine white skirts of the dancers she saw in her mind when she closed her eyes.

Emma's fingers cramped as she played the antique instrument. She'd been at it for hours, travelling to the studio after dress rehearsal ended at five. She needed to get it right. She needed to live up to Marco's belief in her.

Marco had retired three months previously with a smile and a confident "you're ready, my darling." Part of Emma figured the old man had waited until that very specific moment to retire because the next day a new ballet had been announced; _Swan Lake._ Emma's first ballet as the principal pianist was to be her very favourite one, the one she felt a connection with from the start if only because of the name and then grew to have the music thrum through her veins. She was so thankful but also sickeningly nervous. Marco should have left her to start at a smaller ballet, something contemporary or a composer she didn't like. Not the most classical and loved ballet he could.

But Marco seemed to think she was ready. He'd spent the past for years grooming her, deflecting criticism from others in the company (and those who'd wanted her job) that she was too young to be in charge at twenty-two. Emma had come leaps and bounds in her technique at the careful instruction of Marco who she played with for two hours every weekday after the ballet classes ended. But while she was a stronger player because of him, quicker in her movements and smoother despite the speed, Marco never touched her style or judged her decisions when it came to playing pieces.

Marco's faith in her had never waned since the day he showed up in Granny's Diner years previous. Whereas Granny was the grandmother figure in Emma's life, Marco had quickly become her grandfather. They bonded over similar family losses, his own son August traveling with an Asian ballet company and rarely coming home. Emma knew what it was like to lose someone to music and the chance of something bigger. She was just thankful that Marco hadn't grown cold as Emma once had and still had a space for her to practice with him even though he was retired and come over to his house every week for Sunday dinner. Because of her practice schedule she hadn't seen the man all week but he'd promised to be backstage during opening night the next day and that calmed Emma's nerves even further than getting the pieces right did.

When Emma brought the piece to a close she heard quiet footsteps behind her, socks padding against the wooden floors. Emma turned, her leggings sliding across the smooth piano bench. A grin climbed up her face when she saw Killian moving closer, his work boots hanging off his prosthetic hand.

In the four years Killian had been living with Liam he'd grown into his looks. Emma had always thought him handsome but when she thought back now, she realized how sickly he'd looked. Now Killian had lean but firm muscles from his work at the harbour under his brother and his jaw was stronger and more defined, less sallow. A light sprinkling of red and gold stubble lined his chin in a way Emma loved. It made him look more rugged and less like the angsty teen she'd first fallen in love with.

"I knew you'd be here," he said, lilting voice carrying across the room. Emma grinned. She'd been at the studio every day until at least ten for the last week and a half practicing. It wasn't that Killian knew Emma's late-night schedule because they lived together officially but they did spend nearly every night together. Killian still lived with his brothers, despite being in a relationship with Emma for four years, because he felt a debt to Liam. He wanted to help Liam pay for Lee, at least until the boy hit eighteen. While Killian's guardianship role had reduced to primarily babysitting or cooking supper when Liam was late at the docks or with his own lady-friend, he still had trouble letting go at times and just being a young adult. Emma couldn't blame him but if Killian planned to live in that testosterone ocean of a house for four more years, Emma was going to have to have a little chat with the oldest Liam about having him evicted.

"Did you just get off work?" Emma asked as Killian slid onto the bench beside her, motioning to the metal body-powered prosthetic in the shape of a hook still on his arm. When Liam had started his new job as Harbour Master, three years previously, his health plan had allowed him to purchase a prosthetic for Killian. Emma hadn't been sure about it, feeling like it was Liam not accepting his brother's disability, but years later, when Killian had gotten used to the attachment, she couldn't fault its usefulness. Killian rarely wore it at home unless he was cooking but he always wore it to work.

"No, just finished class," he answered, eyes squinting in the dark to see the sheet music Emma had been playing. Killian took night classes at the local college, learning how to be a marine engineer. Killian would graduate in a year and every time Emma thought about that, she swelled with pride. The man had come so far. She was so proud. "How do you even read this in the dark, love?" Killian mused, pulling the lamp's bendable neck down closer to the music.

"I don't," Emma answered with a laugh. "I've got it memorized. This is just for comfort."

Killian shook his head, leaning over to press a kiss on the top of her head. "Of course you do."

"Did you know the first piece I ever played for you was from this ballet?" Emma asked, voice a bit dreamy as she rested against Killian, the exhaustion from the day's anxiety starting to hit her.

"I did know that," Killian answered. Emma knew that most likely he hadn't at the time but he spent so much time at her tiny apartment near the studio listening to her play that he'd definitely learned it by now. "Are you ready to come home, love? You're exhausted." Emma would never get tired of hearing him refer to her little place as home and she knew he felt the same way when she called the Jones house home as well.

"One more song?" Emma whined, too sleepy to really care that she sounded like a four-year-old.

"Okay, one more and then I'm ordering Thai and we're going to watch Netflix."

"Deal," Emma answered, placing her hands on the keys again. Killian's hand went to the small of her back, rubbing small circles into her skin through the thin white t-shirt. While she didn't need the comfort anymore that the touch had originally been meant for, it was still nice to know he was there, no matter how good or bad she played.

The first piece Killian had ever heard Emma play was _Four Little Swans._ It was the music for the dance of the cygnets, the baby swans. It seemed fitting that that was what she'd played first as she returned to music. But Emma wasn't a child anymore. She wasn't scared, or hurt, or running from her future. Now she was the principal pianist for a ballet company with people she loved. Marco had once told her that the music she made _was_ the dance. And when she started to play _Dance of the Swans,_ she actually believed it.


End file.
